Avengers 2 0: The First Mission
by MetalOx137
Summary: Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff struggle to establish a new Avengers response team, while facing mounting pressures to dismantle the team altogether.
1. Chapter 1

_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay. Third time's the charm. Maybe. 'The Scarlet Witch' was never really a story, it was just the outline of a story - and that outline in its turn was developed from the story fragment 'The New Recruit', which was little more than a couple of unrelated and unfinished scenes stitched together. It kept bugging me that Wanda's inclusion into the Avengers was never fully developed in the canonical MCU movie series, they just kind of skipped over it, and my own take was still basically unfinished as well. So, finally, here's my attempt to write out the whole damned thing in longhand. No promises, if I ever finish it I bet it's still a mess :P The story begins where 'Age of Ultron' ends, with the Avengers returning from Sokovia to New York, with Wanda Maximoff in tow... and they find that their troubles with her are only just beginning..._

* * *

An icy wind was blowing across the damp sidewalk, and Natasha Romanoff shivered in her light jacket as she hurried along the deserted street.

"So much for spring," she muttered to herself, as she sprinted towards the private entrance of the luxury hotel where she and her fellow Avengers were staying. It had been just over a week since the destruction of Sokovia, but the event was still front-page news, and the leading story on every newscast. People on every continent had been horrified by the events of the last several days: first, a rampaging Hulk leveled several high-rise buildings in Johannesburg, and then a high speed rail line in South Korea was destroyed by what was described as a small group of terrorists possessing super-powers. But those events paled in comparison to what followed just a short time later - the near-complete destruction of the entire capital city of Sokovia by an army of (apparently) sentient robots. There were protests and near-riots in several major cities around the world as local officials tried to assure the public - without much success - that the situation was safely in hand. The mood grew so ugly, so quickly, that to prevent a mob scene, the Avengers had split up just before arriving in New York. Returning to Avengers Tower was out of the question, at least temporarily; so Tony Stark had surreptitiously confiscated his wife Pepper's reservation at one of the finest luxury hotels in downtown Manhattan - the entire top floor of the building had been reserved for a business conference - and each member of the team made their way there individually and incognito, save for Wanda Maximoff, who was escorted into the building by Steve Rogers, both of them heavily disguised. Clint Barton had elected to return home to his family, with the promise to be available if his services were needed.

Natasha and her remaining fellow Avengers had spent the last several days holed up in their hotel suites, recovering from their own injuries, dealing with their own shell-shock, and trying to take stock of an increasingly ugly and volatile public outcry.

A light rain began to fall just as Natasha made it to the lobby door. She slipped inside quickly, glad to escape the biting wind. The intimate, private lobby was not accessible to the regular hotel guests who used the main entrance, and was manned by only two people, a desk clerk and an armed security guard, both of whom acknowledged Natasha with deferential smiles as she walked to the elevator. Natasha was reasonably sure that the guard was actually one of Nick Fury's men, and she felt a palpable sense of relief. The S.H.I.E.L.D. organization might be gone, but there was still a small core group loyal to Fury, always willing to lend a hand. She gave the guard a grateful smile as she stepped into the elevator.

As the doors closed, Natasha removed her never-needed sunglasses and let her long, dark red hair spill out from under the ballcap that kept her signature tresses hidden. It hadn't been much of a disguise, but Natasha had been itching to get some fresh air for a few minutes at least, and at this hour of the day, she was not likely to be spotted, let alone identified, by anyone.

As the elevator car arrived at the top floor, and its doors opened, Natasha could hear Steve and Tony arguing - again - in the hotel's conference room, their raised voices easily discernible even from the opposite end of the hallway.

"Don't change the subject," Tony Stark was saying. "It's not my fault the Maximoffs were corralled by Strucker and his goons. I'm not the one who turned them into living weapons."

"She's not a weapon," Steve Rogers answered, unable to keep an edge of irritation out of his voice. "She's a young woman, not much more than a kid. She didn't ask for any of this to happen to her."

"Oh, I think she did," Stark retorted. "The Maximoffs volunteered for Strucker's experiments. That's on record. And psycho little sister was clearly on Ultron's side when we tracked them to Klaue's base. Hey, maybe you remember that little dust-up? When she did all those lovely mind jobs on us, and basically tore our entire team apart? I'm pretty sure she was working for the bad guys then."

"She sided with us when we needed her to."

"Fine. Whatever. So, what are we supposed to do with her now, Cap? Hmm? Lock her in a basement for the next thirty years? Even if we still had Fury's fancy Hulk cage, it couldn't contain someone like her. She can warp reality as we know it with a wave of her freakin' _hand._ How are we supposed to control something like that?"

"It's not about control, it's about responsibility, and right now, we are responsible for her. She has no home to go back to. She has no family. Her brother died - helping us. We're the closest thing to a support system she's going to have."

"So, we're running an orphanage now?"

"Oh, for God's sake," Natasha muttered angrily under her breath. Didn't Steve and Tony realize that Wanda could clearly hear every word of their heated argument? She'd have some sharp words for her colleagues soon enough. Right now, there was damage control to be done - to say nothing of offering some simple human comfort.

"Hey," Natasha called out softly as she entered the suite she shared with Wanda, not wanting to startle the young woman. "How are you doing?"

There was no answer. Wanda Maximoff was curled up on the long couch in a near-fetal position, her head tucked into her folded arms, crying softly. Natasha threw her jacket across a chair, crossed the room, and sat down on the edge of the couch. After a moment's hesitation, she leaned over and placed her hand on Wanda's back. She began to give the sobbing girl a gentle back rub, hoping the gesture would provide some comfort.

"I'll go tell the boys to keep it down," she said. "They can be real blockheads sometimes."

Wanda didn't respond, but her sobs quieted; Natasha continued to rub gently between Wanda's shoulder blades. She could feel the girl's knotted, tensed muscles beneath her fingers and sighed sympathetically.

"Oh, Wanda, it's going to be all right," Natasha murmured. "You're safe here. I promise. You're safe."

As she heard the voices of the men rising in argument again, Natasha grunted in annoyance, pushing away her own irritation with an effort.

"All right, I'm going to go yell at the boys, and I will be back in just a few minutes to check on you, okay? I will be right back."

She left the room, leaving the door to the suite open a crack before striding angrily down the long corridor.

"You know, she _can_ hear you," Natasha remonstrated as she entered the conference room. She carefully and deliberately closed the door behind her.

"We weren't _that_ loud," Stark replied, uncertainly. "Were we?"

"Tony, I'm sure you guys can be heard all the way to New Jersey."

"Sorry." Steve Rogers' apology was abrupt and perfunctory. He was as agitated by the argument as Stark was. "How is she?"

"How do you think she is?" Sighing, Natasha took a seat at the table. "She's a mess."

"Yeah, well, since we neglected to turn her over to the authorities when we had the chance, now she's _our_ mess," Stark said glumly.

"There were extenuating circumstances, Tony," Natasha reminded him. "Wanda helped us defeat Ultron. We might not have stopped him, without her help. We had to bring her with us."

Stark scoffed derisively. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't she _start_ this whole fiasco by helping Ultron in the first place?"

"And Ultron destroyed her only home, and murdered her only living relative. Trust me, Tony. She regrets it."

"The question still remains," Steve cut in. "What do we do with her now?"

After having spent the better part of the afternoon pacing the room, Stark settled himself in one of the chairs next to Natasha.

"We put ourselves in a real bind, legally, by bringing her back to New York with us," he sighed dejectedly. "If we'd just left her in Sokovia -"

"Let's not go through that again," Steve waved a hand impatiently. "She's here now. Taking her back to her ruined homeland isn't a viable option. So, what other options do we have? Realistically?"

"Just about every international peacekeeping body on the planet is demanding her extradition," Stark answered. "We _could_ turn her over to them, I suppose."

"Not an option," Natasha declared coldly.

Steve Rogers frowned; he sensed that Natasha was about to make a suggestion. "What are you thinking, Natasha?"

"I'm thinking she could stay with us."

Steve Rogers and Tony Stark exchanged a dubious glance with one another.

"What, you mean, join the Avengers?" Stark said, after an awkward pause. "Please tell me you're not serious."

"Why not? We've all experienced firsthand the power that Wanda has," Natasha pointed out. "I don't know about you, but I'd much rather have power like that on our side, than on the side of the bad guys."

"Do you think she's still one of the bad guys?" Steve asked, in all seriousness.

"No. I don't," Natasha said firmly. "When Ultron tried to get her to follow through with his plan, she balked."

"Of course she did," Stark snorted. "Otherwise, she'd be dead."

Natasha shook her head sadly. "I don't think that's why she switched sides. Or not the whole reason, anyway. I almost get the impression she was hoping she wouldn't survive."

"You mean, she _wanted_ to die?" Steve frowned with obvious concern. "You don't think she's suicidal, do you?"

"No. I don't think she's in _that_ kind of a spiral. At least... not yet." Natasha sighed. "But we have a very limited window of opportunity here. Wanda's already blaming herself for the destruction of Sokovia and her brother's death. She was in a bad place to start with. But now..."

"Now she's a ticking bomb," Stark finished her sentence glumly.

"One we still have a chance of defusing," Natasha insisted.

Tony Stark sighed heavily, running his fingers through his dark hair in agitation.

"Let me get this straight. You want us to welcome, with open arms, a woman who basically tore the Avengers apart with a flick of her wrist, hates every one of us, who has God only knows what kinds of psychoses, and powers we can't even chart?"

"She fought by our side, Tony," Natasha answered evenly. "And gave a good account of herself. I'm willing to bet if we approach her the right away, she would fight by our side again."

"You do realize Banner's still missing, right?" Stark shot back. "And I'm willing to bet my entire fortune that the little Scarlet Witch we have locked away back there is the real reason he's gone AWOL."

Steve Rogers leaned forward in his chair; Natasha's suggestion was beginning to intrigue him.

"Tony's right, Natasha," he cautioned. "Until very recently, Maximoff was an enemy combatant, and we still don't know the full extent of her powers. And frankly, the ones we _do_ know about make me very nervous."

"Wait a minute, are you _agreeing_ with me?" Stark exclaimed, feigning shock.

"I'll try not to make a habit of it," Steve said, with a humorless smile. He turned back to Natasha. "Anyway, even if she's sincere about making amends, we can't put her through any sort of ordinary vetting process."

"I realize that, Steve. But think of the risks we take, if we don't at least try to bring her in-house. If she decided to lash out again at the world..." Natasha couldn't quite suppress a shudder. "Well, frankly, I'm not sure the Avengers could stop her," she confessed. "So I see absolutely no risk in holding out a carrot instead of a stick, and see where that gets us."

Natasha looked at her two friends pleadingly. "Look, she's going to be stuck with us for the time being anyway, at least until her legal status gets sorted out. So why don't we take advantage of that time, and see if she's willing to work with us on a permanent basis?"

"Do you really think you have a chance of getting through to her?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. I think so..." Natasha gave Steve a dismayed look. "What, this is all going to be on _me?"_

Steve didn't answer immediately, and Natasha glanced over at Tony Stark.

"Hey, don't look at me," Stark protested. "Comforting grieving super-villains is not exactly in my skill set."

"And what makes you think it's in mine?" Natasha retorted. "Tell me, which one of us in this room is the career assassin?"

"Natasha." Steve gently called her to a halt. "You're the one who's advocating for her."

Natasha glared angrily at Steve for a moment, and then relented. "Yeah," she conceded. "I guess I am."

"And realistically, I think she's far more likely to respond favorably to you, than any of the rest of us."

Reluctantly, Natasha nodded. "Okay. She's my project. Got it."

"And at least for now, it's probably better if Tony keeps his distance. Sorry, Tony, but you are something of a trigger for her."

Stark shrugged. "I get to stay away from the Scarlet Witch? I have absolutely zero problem with that."

"Tony, please stop calling her that," Natasha sighed. "It's just mean."

"But accurate," Stark retorted.

"Even if your idea works, we still need someplace to keep the girl safe in the meantime," Steve pointed out to Natasha.

"Yeah, we can't stay here indefinitely," Stark added. "The authorities are swarming all over the Avengers tower, waiting for us to show up there. Good thing Pepper had the top floor of this hotel reserved for private business use. Otherwise, we might all have been led away in cuffs by now."

"Actually, I was thinking of taking Wanda to our new upstate facility," Natasha suggested.

Steve frowned. "That site's still under construction."

"I know. But the residence wing is more or less complete. And nobody will be looking for us there. At least, not right away."

Steve and Tony exchanged a quick glance.

"That could work," Stark allowed.

"I mean, the electricity's on, and the plumbing works, right? Wanda and I can camp out there for a while... at least until the dust settles."

"Let's be clear on what we're doing here," Steve cautioned. "If our endgame is to have the Maximoff girl join the team, then that also means we're also officially fighting any extradition charges on her behalf."

"Steve, Tony, her name is 'Wanda'," Natasha rebuked her friends gently. "Not 'the Maximoff girl', not 'The Scarlet Witch'. She has a first name. Use it."

Steve nodded somberly. "You're absolutely right," he agreed. "Wanda it is."

Natasha turned to Tony Stark. "How bad is this going to get?" she asked apprehensively.

"Oh, it's already bad," Stark assured her. "Even my team of lawyers is going to need a team of lawyers."

Natasha mulled that over. "I still think she's worth the risk," she declared finally.

Steve nodded thoughtfully. "I do, too," he concurred. "With S.H.I.E.L.D., Thor and Banner all out of the picture, we don't have a whole lot of resources or firepower to fight off anything like another Chitauri invasion. Wanda could certainly be a big help to us there."

Natasha and Steve turned to Tony Stark with an expectant look.

"Okay, okay, I'll get my legal team on it," Stark agreed, with obvious reluctance. "We can begin the filings to keep her here in New York for the time being, and fight the extradition charges. That doesn't mean she won't eventually have to stand trial somewhere," he cautioned. "Now that S.H.I.E.L.D. is gone, the Avengers don't have any special protections under international law. Sooner or later, we're going to have to deal with the question of our own legal status. Or whether or not we even _have_ a team, without Banner and Thor on board."

"One crisis at a time, Tony," Natasha said.

"Okay. Crisis One. I'm on it." Tony Stark got up from the table, and headed for the conference room door, phone in his ear. His voice faded as he strode away down the corridor. "Happy? Hey, it's me. Yeah. Can you have the car brought around the side entrance, please? And put me through to our legal department. Murdoch, if he's there. Yeah... oh, we definitely have a lot of work to do..."

Natasha turned to Steve with a despairing sigh. "What _are_ we going to do, Steve? Project Insight may be ended, but there are still dozens of HYDRA cells out there planning God knows what, and we're back on our heels, just trying to scrape a team together. Not to mention, an organization to support it," she added sadly.

Steve Rogers shrugged helplessly. "I wish I could tell you, Natasha," he said. "But right now... honestly, I just don't know."

* * *

A few minutes later, the hotel elevator brought Tony Stark to the private lobby on the far side of the hotel. He nodded perfunctorily to the desk clerk as he headed out to the street. As Stark exited the door, a man in a dark suit hurried over to him. Realizing that the man was a stranger, Stark immediately held up his hands in a halting gesture.

"Whoa, there, friend. That's close enough."

The man held something in his hand. Stark glanced down long enough to see that he was carrying a sheaf of unsealed court documents. Stark's expression blanched, and he groaned in dismay. "Oh, son of a -"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark," the man apologized breathlessly, holding the papers out to him. "I don't want to give you these papers, any more than you want to take them. But I'm hereby ordered by the court of the state of New York to notify you that you've been served."


	2. Chapter 2

The following morning brought a cold, lashing springtime rain to the streets of New York. Natasha found Steve in the hotel's conference room, staring pensively out the window at the grey skies. She suspected he might have been standing there all night.

"You're up early," she greeted him.

Steve gave her a weary smile. "It's been a busy morning."

"Is everything all right?"

"Tony was subpoenaed last night."

"What?" Natasha was horrified.

"Don't worry - he's not in jail," Steve assured her. "But just so you know, the lawsuits are starting to roll in."

Natasha sighed and sank into one of the conference room chairs. "Well, I guess that was to be expected," she allowed. "But it's still depressing."

"I talked to Tony this morning. He says his lawyers have everything covered, and not to worry. But he's basically under house arrest for the time being."

Natasha groaned with dismay. "These idiots do realize that Tony was busy _saving_ all their lives, don't they?"

Steve seated himself in one of the chairs across from Natasha. "This isn't going to go well for us, Natasha. We're not entirely without fault here. If the fact that Stark and Banner helped create Ultron ever became public knowledge, it would end the team."

"Maybe it already has," Natasha answered grimly.

"For now, the authorities have another scapegoat they're focused on."

"You're worried they're coming after Wanda."

"I think they already are. Tony was targeted because of what happened in Johannesburg -"

"Hey, there's no _way_ anybody possibly made a positive ID on Tony, not in that suit-within-a-suit," Natasha protested.

"Agreed. But the bottom line is, Tony funds the Avengers - and the Avengers are known to have taken Wanda into private custody. They want her, so they start with him."

"What? Nothing for the rest of us?" Natasha managed a taut-lipped smile.

"I'm sure it's just a matter of time," Steve admitted.

"What do we do, then?"

"Get off-grid. As quickly as possible. Tony is volunteering to take heat for us as the public face of the Avengers. His legal team is the best there is. And he's done this dance before. The rest of us need to drop out of sight."

"Please tell me we're not handing Wanda over to the authorities."

"Not voluntarily, we're not."

Natasha sighed with relief. "Thank you for that."

"Wanda made some terrible mistakes," Steve allowed. "But so did the rest of us."

"As far as I'm concerned, Wanda's been punished enough," Natasha muttered angrily.

"You're being very tolerant, seeing as she turned your head inside-out," Steve observed.

"So are you," Natasha shot back.

Steve shrugged. "Wanda sided with the Avengers, when she realized what Ultron was really planning. I think she's basically a good kid, who just needs the right opportunity to show that to the rest of the world."

"Clint told me that Wanda saved his life in Sokovia," Natasha confided. "And you and I both saw how fiercely she fought, when we tried to save the city. She's not the villain here, Steve. She lost her brother. Her only living relative. And her home. Whatever mistakes she's made, she's more than paid for them."

"And I agree with you. We just need to give Tony and his legal team time to bring everyone else to the same conclusion."

"What about the Vision?"

Steve sighed heavily. "So far, nobody knows about the Vision, except for us. Frankly, I'd like to keep it that way. At least for now."

"You're worried people will think he's another Ultron."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Probably," Natasha admitted. "If I didn't know him better. If I hadn't seen him fight by our side."

"Or the fact he can pick up Thor's hammer."

Natasha's eyes went wide. "He didn't."

"Yeah, it's too bad you weren't there to see that," Steve grinned. "It was pretty impressive."

"What did Thor say?"

"Well, nothing, really. He seemed as surprised as the rest of us. Then, I don't know, he actually seemed quite pleased."

"Wow." Natasha shook her head in disbelief. "That's just... wow. You're right. I'm sorry I missed that." She looked back at Steve, trying to force herself to stay on the topic at hand. "So, what do we do now?"

"Is there somewhere you can take Wanda? Someplace off the grid?"

Natasha nodded thoughtfully. "I know a place, yeah."

"Then go there. And I mean, right now. As fast as you can. Don't tell anyone where you're headed, not even me. And go dark. Turn off all your phones, and disable any other device that might have GPS."

"You're serious."

"Yeah. I am."

"What about a car?"

"Maria is bringing one with all location services disabled. She'll have it here within the hour."

"Maria's sticking with us?"

"She is." Steve smiled, his first unforced smile all morning. "She told me that we're beyond paychecks now. She says she wants to be paid in blood."

"She actually said that?"

"Yeah. It's taken me a little while to get used to her sense of humor," Steve admitted with a rueful grin.

"Thank God she's staying," Natasha murmured. "I can't even imagine trying to do this job without her."

"A good XO is often the difference between success and failure," Steve agreed. "Maria's the best I've ever worked with."

"I don't suppose she's heard from Fury?"

"I didn't ask. I'm sure Nick is watching all this very closely. Not that he can do anything for us on any official level."

"How can I get in touch with you?"

"For now, you don't. You're on protection detail now, Agent Romanoff." Steve gave her a terse smile. "Get Wanda to someplace safe, and the two of you keep your heads down. As soon as I can, I'll come looking for you."

"I'm the bodyguard. Got it." Natasha's mind was already racing, coming up with ideas to leave a trail of breadcrumbs that only Steve or Tony could follow. "What are you going to do?"

"See what I can do about keeping the team together. We may not have the firepower we used to, but I thought that when things calm down a bit, you, me, Sam and Clint could take a run at shutting down the remaining active HYDRA cells - before they can cause any more harm."

"Sounds great. I'm in."

Steve smiled gratefully. "Sam's already been looking into where HYDRA might have taken Bucky. I'll ask him to start looking for Banner, too. But frankly, after Johannesburg, I don't know if we could use Banner in the field again - or if he would even want to join us."

"I just want to know that he's safe," Natasha declared.

Steve nodded sadly. "Yeah. Me too." He pushed his chair away from the table, getting ready to stand up. "Tony will play defense for us on the legal end for the time being. Maria's headed back to the upstate facility. The Vision is with Tony and Pepper at Stark Tower - and nobody knows that, except for you, me and the Starks," he cautioned.

"Confidential info," Natasha nodded. "Not to be shared."

"Right. Now, go grab Wanda, and get yourselves lost." Steve managed a grin. "Not that you need any advice from me on how to disappear. I really need to take a master class from you on that subject one day."

As they got up from the table, Natasha impulsively pulled Steve close, and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"For what?" Steve asked, bewildered.

"Just... for being the good man that you are. It means a lot." She released him, and gave him a tender smile. "And the next time I see you, we're so splitting a case of beer," she declared.

Steve almost laughed. "It's a date," he promised.

"Watch your back, Steve. I'll see you soon."

Natasha quickly exited the room.

* * *

"Wanda? We're here."

Natasha Romanoff set the parking brake on the car, shut off the motor, and looked over at the young woman seated next to her. "Wanda?"

Wanda Maximoff was fast asleep, her head supported by a small throw pillow wedged between her cheek and the passenger side door. She'd slept nearly the entire drive from Manhattan to upstate New York, and it was the first unbroken sleep she'd had since arriving from Sokovia. Even though Natasha and Wanda had spent the last week in one of the finest luxury hotels in New York, neither had slept well. It was more accurate to say they'd barely slept at all. Wanda's sleep had been broken and fitful at best. She would drop off for a few minutes, but then she would wake, either screaming or sobbing piteously after having terrifying nightmares. Natasha had taken it upon herself to sleep in the same room with Wanda, offering a literal shoulder to cry on, comforting the grieving girl every time she woke. It had been an exhausting experience for both of them. Now, in the relative isolation of the countryside, Natasha was desperately hoping they might both find some badly needed peace and quiet.

The safe house itself was a comfortable stone cottage nestled deep in the upstate woodlands, several hundred miles south and west of the new Avengers headquarters, and at least five miles off the two-lane interstate that wound its way through the relatively secluded wilderness. As Natasha peered out through the windshield at the reassuring stone walls, hemmed in by large, old growth pine and oak trees, she suddenly felt sure she'd made the right call. This was not just a place to disappear. It was a place to heal.

Natasha looked over at Wanda again with genuine concern. The young woman looked haggard and exhausted, even in sleep; there were dark circles under her swollen eyes, skin that was far too pale, lips cracked, mouth slightly agape, and even her breathing was uncomfortably shallow. _I've got to get her to eat something,_ Natasha reminded herself sternly. Wanda had barely touched a bite of food since they arrived in New York over a week ago, and if the girl didn't eat soon, she was going to make herself sick. Natasha made a mental note to check the kitchen for provisions. Maybe Wanda could be tempted with some good old-fashioned comfort food. With any luck, Natasha thought she might be able to improvise a plate of paprikash.

Natasha unbuckled her seat belt and, as quietly as she could, opened her driver's side door. Wanda didn't stir. Natasha slipped out of the vehicle, unlocked the trunk, and took out their overnight bags from the rear hatch.

 _Another thing to add to the list,_ Natasha sighed to herself. To say they were traveling light was an understatement. Wanda had only two outfits, both of which Natasha had purchased for her in New York during their brief stay. Natasha wasn't much better off, having only whatever would fit in her own overnight bag. She had plenty of clothes in her midtown apartment, none of which helped her now, being hundreds of miles away.

She put the bags down on the porch, but, before looking for the house key, she made a quick visual inspection of the perimeter. Satisfied that there were no immediate threats, she found the door key in its expected hiding place, and unlocked the door.

Natasha didn't enter the front room immediately. She wasn't carrying a sidearm with her, but she still wanted to make sure the interior was clear before waking Wanda. She cautiously pushed the door open with her boot. Everything seemed perfectly still inside. There was enough light coming in from the front window to assure her that the living room was clear, at least.

Moving silently from room to room, Natasha did a quick visual inspection of the tiny cottage. Living room, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom, all were clear, with no apparent signs of any unauthorized visitors. Relaxing slightly, Natasha pulled the luggage into the living room, and then hurried back to the car to get Wanda safely inside.

Wanda was so groggy that Natasha nearly had to drag her across the threshold. After helping Wanda her to the nearest couch, the young woman immediately collapsed on it, falling back into a deep, impenetrable sleep in a matter of seconds.

"So, you finally crashed," Natasha murmured sympathetically. "Bless you, Wanda. Your timing's perfect."

Natasha took a quilt from the chair, and carefully draped it over the sleeping girl. Next, she turned on the gas fireplace. It wasn't uncomfortable in the room yet, but the night was expected to be a cold one.

Natasha wanted to check the cabinets for provisions, but decided that her first priority was to let the network know that the safe house now had residents. Over the years, Natasha had accumulated a fair number of contacts, not just in espionage circles, but in almost every social circle imaginable. She knew the owners of this particular cottage, and also knew they had the property surveilled. She slipped outside, found a large rock - almost the size of a basketball - on the right side of the driveway, a few yards from the cottage. With some effort, she rolled the rock over to the left side of the driveway, which would indicate to anyone coming to inspect the property that the house was now in use, and that the occupants were not to be disturbed. _Not that a car tucked away on the side of the house isn't a dead giveaway,_ Natasha grinned ruefully to herself.

Natasha slipped back inside the cottage, but she needn't have bothered to keep quiet. Wanda was sound asleep, for all practical purposes dead to the world. Someone could have dropped a set of china plates on the floor next to her, and Wanda wouldn't even have noticed. Natasha watched the sleeping girl for a moment, a wistful expression on her face. Her own weariness was rapidly overtaking her, and watching her companion dozing was very suggestive.

Natasha decided not to fight against the long accumulation of sleep-deprived nights. Wanda was resting, she should do the same. Everything else could be sorted out later. Slipping out of her boots, Natasha pulled an ottoman over to a large, upholstered chair in the corner of the room, grabbed one of the throw pillows and another quilt, and curled up for a quick power nap.

 _Sleep when the baby sleeps,_ she thought as she yawned expansively. She settled herself into the chair, which was seductively comfortable, and within moments she too was fast asleep.

* * *

Sam Wilson was just wrapping up his group therapy session at the VA when he noticed Steve Rogers hanging back in the far corner of the room, doing his best to look inconspicuous. As soon as the meeting broke up, Sam hurried over to him.

"Man, where have you _been?"_ Sam exclaimed, the worry evident on his face. "I saw all that stuff about Sokovia on the news - I've been trying to reach you for days -"

"I got your messages," Steve nodded with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry I couldn't contact you before now, Sam. Thought it might be best if I dropped by in person."

"I'm glad you did. You're all right?"

Sam looked his friend up and down critically, trying assure himself Steve was unharmed.

"A few new bumps and bruises. Nothing serious," Steve promised.

"Man, you have got to start calling me, when shit like that goes down."

"Actually, that's kind of why I'm here. Is there someplace where we can talk?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

They ducked into an empty office, and Sam closed the door behind him.

"We should be safe enough in here," he announced, perching himself on the edge of a disused desk. "So, been a busy week for you."

Steve gave his friend a rueful smile. "You could say that."

"I saw video of that whole dust-up in South Africa with Banner. That was messed up. I'm assuming that was Stark in the Hulkbuster suit."

"Yeah."

"So, what happened? I thought Banner still responded to you guys, even when he got all... big and green and whatever."

"He was..." Steve paused. "Well, the easiest way I can explain it is, Banner was brainwashed. He wasn't himself."

"No kidding," Sam retorted dryly. "Here's not here in DC, is he?"

"Banner's in the wind. Nobody knows where."

"And Thor?"

"Back home, in Asgard."

"And did I hear Stark's in jail?"

"Just detained," Steve corrected him. "Tony's lawyers are handling it. Still, things are about to get really ugly on the legal front."

"Tasha and Clint, they all right?"

"Barton's with his family. Natasha left this morning to spend a few days off the grid." Steve paused. "Sam, we brought someone back with us, a young girl from Sokovia. She has powers - incredible powers. She can do things I've never seen anybody do."

Sam grunted softly in surprise. "Coming from you, that's saying something."

"There's a chance she might be Avengers material. But she needs work. Most of all, she needs a mentor. Someone who could be both a teacher and a drill sergeant. I was kind of hoping I could talk you into working with her."

Sam frowned in puzzlement. "Me? I don't know anything about super powers."

"No, but you know about instilling structure and discipline, and you know what it's like to serve in a combat unit. And you _are_ a good teacher, Sam."

"So, what, you want me to come up with a boot camp experience just for her?"

"Something like that. But I was also thinking about something a little more long-term." Steve paused. "I need a wingman, Sam."

Steve let that statement hang in the air for a moment, and as Sam realized the implications of Steve's words, his eyes went wide.

"Wait, did you just ask me to join the Avengers?" he demanded.

"You interested?" Steve feigned nonchalance.

"This is serious. On the level? Official?"

"That's right."

"You want me to hang with you, and the Thunder God, and the millionaire playboy with the super suit?"

"Well... with me and Natasha, at least," Steve's rueful smile returned.

Sam frowned. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Like I said. Banner's in the wind. Even if we can find him, I'm not sure we could use his services again - not after what happened in Johannesburg. I'm not sure when or even if Thor's coming back."

"And Stark's gonna be fighting lawsuits from here 'til doomsday."

"Tony was looking to get out of the Avengers, even before the whole Ultron fiasco came up. But I have a feeling all the legal actions will keep him sidelined for a while, whether he wants to be or not." Steve gave his friend an apologetic smile. "It's not the Avengers you've seen on TV, Sam, but we could sure use you right about now. There are still a lot of HYDRA cells out there that need to be swept up, not to mention a new recruit with real potential, but she's as raw as they come. And after you helped me and Natasha out with Project Insight - well, I thought maybe you might be willing to get back in the game."

"You thought right," Sam declared solemnly. "Hey, man, I'm in. Whatever you need."

He offered his hand, and Steve clasped it warmly.

"Sam... thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Sam retorted. "I don't come cheap. What's this gig likely to pay?" he asked jokingly.

"Blood, sweat and tears," Steve grinned. "Like always."

"Well..." Sam got up off the desk. "If that's how it is... when's the last time you ate?"

"I can't remember," Steve admitted. "I've been stuck in a hotel for the last week, and it's all right as far as that goes, but..." he made a face. "I really hate room service food."

"I hear you, man, I hear you," Sam declared sympathetically, and then his face brightened. "Hey. I know a little place, about six blocks from here," he said. "Great burgers. A dozen brews on tap. All quality stuff. You can give me all the details over a decent meal. I call that multitasking. What do you say?"

Steve Rogers grinned at his friend. "Sounds great," he said. "Lead the way."


	3. Chapter 3

It was the musical clink of stemware that woke Wanda from her sound sleep. As she raised her head groggily, she could see Natasha on the other side of the room, setting out forks, knives and glasses on a small, round dinette table. Still barely conscious, Wanda let her head fall back onto her pillow and closed her eyes again. But just then, the smell of cooking food reached her nostrils - a warm, delicious, tantalizing smell that caused her mouth to water instantly. Her body began to remind her, in no uncertain terms, that it was dangerously low on fuel, and that she needed to eat. Every joint in her body was stiff and sore, but Wanda pushed herself up off the couch onto one elbow, blinking furiously in the low light.

Natasha smiled warmly at her. "Oh, good. You're awake," she said. "Supper will be ready in about ten minutes."

As Wanda's body began to kick-start itself into waking mode, she was suddenly aware of even more urgent needs. Natasha smiled knowingly at her. "Bathroom's through there," she said, jerking her thumb in the direction of the open doorway behind her. Wanda pushed herself upright and hurried away.

A few minutes later, Wanda returned, utterly confused and disoriented. She was in a small stone cottage, she could see that. But where that cottage was, and how she got here, she hadn't the first idea. Not knowing what else to do, she sat down again on the couch where she'd been sleeping soundly for the last six hours.

Natasha brought over a tall glass filled with clear liquid and handed it to her.

"Drink this," she ordered gently. "All of it. Now."

Seeing Wanda's confusion, she added, "It's just water. You haven't had anything to eat or drink for almost a week, Wanda. You're dangerously dehydrated. Go on. Drink."

Wanda didn't need Natasha's admonition to remind her of this. Her own body was protesting loudly, setting off dozens of alarm bells indicating the extent of her physical duress. She brought the glass to her lips and began to drink. She could feel the cold, clear water running down her esophagus, slowly spreading out into her stomach. She immediately began to feel better.

"Where are we?" she asked, as Natasha returned to the tiny kitchen to make final preparations for their meal.

"Someplace safe," Natasha answered, and evidently, that was all she intended to say.

"We're not in Sokovia?" Wanda pressed.

"No."

Wanda digested that response for a moment. "Please tell me where I am," she asked plaintively.

Natasha looked up at her. "You're in a cabin in upstate New York. In America. In the middle of a dense forest, hundreds of miles from anywhere. Does that help you?" She turned the stove burners to the off position. "There. Ready now," she said to herself with satisfaction.

Wanda regarded her companion warily.

"Are you... going to kill me?"

Natasha was so caught off-guard by the question, she actually blinked in surprise. "Kill you?"

"For hurting your friends," Wanda said, shrinking slightly in her seat. "For hurting you."

It took Natasha a full minute to shake off her bemusement. "I was planning to share supper with you," she answered truthfully. "Although, I suppose my cooking _could_ kill you," she deadpanned. "I'm not really a very good cook."

Sensing that a flippant answer was probably not the best response, Natasha quickly added, "No, Wanda. I'm not going to kill you, or harm you in any way," she declared. "If I had wanted to do that, I could have done that long before we got to New York."

She put two plates of steaming hot food down on the small dinette table. "You're among friends, Wanda. Please. Come share dinner with me."

Wanda was still wary, but the smell wafting from the plates was so enticing, she couldn't resist. She got up off the couch and set herself down at the table across from Natasha.

"Is this paprikash?" she asked, delighted.

Natasha made a face. "Well... as close as I could get, with the canned goods we had in the pantry," she admitted. "Tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it, we'll find a grocery store and get some fresh produce to make the real thing."

Wanda began to bolt down the food ravenously. Natasha felt a twinge in her heart. She was happy that Wanda's appetite had returned, but she had also seen that kind of behavior once too often in refugee camps, when the eater had no idea where the next meal might be coming from.

"Hey," she remonstrated gently. "Breathe, Wanda. Inhale and exhale between bites. Trust me, your digestion will thank you for it."

Wanda did make an effort to slow her consumption, but the food was still disappearing rapidly from her plate.

"Don't worry, there's plenty more," Natasha assured her. "I think it's time we set down some rules," she added, starting her own meal at a far more sedate pace. "Rules of the cabin. And rule one is, for the next few days, I don't want you to think about anything but eating or sleeping. You know, all those things you _haven't_ been doing, for the last week or so."

Wanda paused long enough to give Natasha a bewildered look.

"I mean it, Wanda," Natasha admonished her. "You need to start taking care of yourself, or you're going to make yourself sick. That is not a situation that either of us needs right now."

Wanda seemed to consider that, and when she resumed eating, she did so at a much more moderate pace. Natasha sighed with relief and turned her full attention to her own meal.

After they spent a few minutes in relative silence, single-mindedly focused on their food, Wanda said in an almost inaudible voice, "I don't believe you."

"What?" Natasha looked up, and she could swear there was just the faintest flicker of a rebellious smile playing about the young woman's lips.

"You can't make up rules for me," Wanda declared. "This isn't really your cabin."

"It's more my cabin than yours," Natasha retorted. "So, yes, my cabin, my rules."

Wanda decided to let that go. For now. "Okay. Your rules," she agreed. "But not your cabin. So, who owns this place? Really?"

"A friend," Natasha answered evenly. "Someone I trust."

Her tone suggested that was to be the end of the conversation.

Wanda was starting to feel quite groggy, even though she'd slept the better part of the day.

"Thank you, for helping me," she said sincerely.

"Don't thank me. I have plans for you," Natasha said simply, taking up a forkful of food.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Have you finished eating?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Then go throw yourself in the tub, and _scour_ yourself," Natasha ordered. "You haven't attended to yourself once in more than a week. And while Steve and Tony haven't been close enough to you to notice, believe me, I have. I'll clean up the dishes, and then put some fresh sheets on the bed."

"I can sleep out here, on the couch," Wanda offered.

Natasha shook her head. "No. We sleep in the same room. Which means, we're sharing a bed. I hope you're not shy."

Wanda thought that over. "Are... are we in any danger?" she asked hesitantly.

"It's just a precaution," Natasha answered simply.

"But if you're worried that -"

"Ah, ah!" Natasha barked. "Rule one, remember? You only get to worry about eating and sleeping. I'll worry about everything else."

Wanda looked for a moment that she might protest, but then backed down. "Okay," she relented. "Following rule one."

She stopped in the doorway and looked back at Natasha. "Thank you," she said solemnly, "For watching over me." She slipped inside the bathroom, and closed the door behind her.

As Natasha cleaned up the kitchen, there was the faintest trace of a smile on her lips. Oh, this was going to be an interesting few days, all right.

* * *

When Natasha awoke the next morning, she was bemused to find the bed beside her empty. Wanda had apparently already woken up. Quickly shrugging herself into her clothes, Natasha came out into the tiny living room and kitchen area, but there was no sign of her companion. Frowning, Natasha peeked into the bathroom. The door was unlatched and the room was also empty. Now feeling somewhat uneasy, Natasha grabbed her jacket, and stepped outside.

To her immense relief, she found Wanda sitting on the top stoop of the front porch. The younger woman had fully dressed, wearing her long dark red coat and boots over her blouse and jeans. She was staring pensively out at the gentle morning rain.

"Hey," Natasha greeted her. "You scared me. I was beginning to think you'd run off."

Wanda made no reply. Natasha had just about decided the girl wasn't going to answer, when Wanda finally spoke.

"What's going to happen to me?"

Wanda didn't turn her head as she asked the question, she continued to stare off into the distance. Sighing, Natasha settled herself on the step beside her.

"I don't know," she answered truthfully. "If you're asking what we're going to do with you, we're not turning you over to the authorities."

"Why not?" Wanda turned her head to look at Natasha for the first time. "I'm one of the bad guys, right? I did some terrible things. I should be punished."

"Steve and I both felt there was... a better way to address your situation."

"I saw the video," Wanda said quietly. "Of Johannesburg. All those buildings destroyed, all those people injured."

Natasha sighed in dismay. "Oh, Wanda."

"Doctor Banner wasn't responsible for that. He wouldn't have done any of those things, if I hadn't attacked him first. That's on me. And what happened in Sokovia, that was my fault too. When Piet-"

She broke off abruptly, unable to finish her thought. Natasha regarded her companion with concern. Wanda's expression was outwardly calm, but her tense, clenched jawline betrayed her deeper feelings.

"Wanda." Natasha called the girl's name softly, trying to help soothe her roiling emotions. "You and your brother were only doing what you thought was right."

Wanda shook her head tearfully. "That's an excuse."

"You helped us stop Ultron. That means you're not one of the bad guys."

"I should have died with Pietro," Wanda exclaimed bitterly.

"No," Natasha murmured. "No. You shouldn't have."

"I should be dead, or in prison. I'm a monster."

"I don't believe that," Natasha said firmly. "And I don't think you do, either."

Wanda didn't answer. She continued to stare out into the rain, rigid as a board, her nostrils flaring as if breathing itself had become an unendurable agony. Huge tears welled in her wide eyes.

"Wanda, if you really were a monster, you wouldn't feel pain like you do now," Natasha said. "That guilt you feel, that remorse? That's your conscience, reminding you of what's right. And it hurts. I know. Believe me, I know." She sighed sadly. "Do you want to know what a real monster looks like? Because there's one sitting next to you, right now."

Despite her distress, Wanda looked up at Natasha in surprise. "You're not a monster."

"What makes you so sure?"

"You help people. You protect people..."

"I do now," Natasha allowed. "But not always. Do you know what I used to be, before I joined the Avengers? I was an assassin. I murdered people. And I don't just mean other spies, or military. Innocent people. Mothers. Fathers. Children."

Wanda looked at her in genuine horror.

"When I was seven, the state took me away from my family," Natasha told her. "I was shipped off to a special training center, and there, government agents began to train me, when I was just a child, how to kill people. How to kill slowly and painfully, or how to be quick as well as deadly. I didn't need a gun, although I was taught how to load and fire almost every type of gun you can think of. I learned how to turn anything at hand - ordinary household objects - into deadly weapons. I learned more types of hand-to-hand combat than I can even name. My teachers told me I was the best student they had ever seen. And then... I was sent out into the world, to do the job I had been trained for. And for ten years, that was all I did. I was very, very good at it."

"How?" Wanda croaked in dismay. "How is that even possible?"

"Because that's the difference between a human being and a monster. I was able to do the job because I felt nothing. Monsters don't feel guilt, or remorse, or shame. If they feel anything at all, they feel satisfaction of a job well done, knowing how much harm, how much suffering has occurred as a result of their actions."

"You are not that person," Wanda protested vehemently.

"No, I'm not," Natasha agreed thoughtfully. "Not any more."

"But why are you different now? What did you do?"

"It wasn't something I did. It was someone I met."

"Captain America?" Wanda guessed.

"Steve? No, oh, no," Natasha almost laughed. "Steve didn't come along until later - much, _much_ later."

"Clint, then."

Natasha smiled somberly. "As I think you've noticed, Clint and I do share a... history," she allowed. "We first met when I was still working as an assassin. Clint was sent to stop me."

"You mean, kill you."

"Yes. I mean kill me." It was Natasha's turn to stare out into the rain. "Clint made a different call."

Natasha didn't seem interested in elaborating; in fact, she seemed lost in reverie. After a few moments, Wanda asked, "What did he do?"

Natasha sighed. "Instead of putting a bullet in my head, he took me to meet his boss."

"CIA?"

"Not exactly," Natasha grinned. "Clint took me to see Nick Fury - the director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Clint pitched the idea that I might have value as a counter-intelligence agent. Fury agreed, and offered me a job."

"And that's when you joined the Avengers." Wanda discreetly wiped her eyes, her curiosity slowly winning out over her pain and sorrow.

"Oh, no. The Avengers didn't exist back then. In fact, the modern era version of S.H.I.E.L.D. was just getting off the ground. Fury had no need for an assassin. But good agents are always hard to come by. He asked me if I was interested in expanding my skill set." Natasha scoffed softly. "I had a lot of innocent blood on my hands by that point. Of course I was interested. I said yes."

Natasha regarded her young charge thoughtfully. "Maybe I can do for you, what Clint and Fury did for me."

"What, offer me a job?"

Natasha noted that despite Wanda's recent outpouring of grief, the young woman still possessed a distinctly sardonic sense of humor, and wasn't shy about expressing it. She decided she approved. She chose her next words very carefully.

"Maybe just the opportunity to prove to yourself you're something other than a monster."

Wanda didn't answer, but she was looking at Natasha quite intently, obviously hanging onto every word.

"It's obvious that Strucker was training you and your brother to be soldiers, maybe even assassins." Natasha fixed Wanda with a piercing stare of her own. "Do you think you might be interested in expanding your skill set?"

As Wanda realized the implications behind Natasha's words, she drew in a sharp breath. "You mean, join the Avengers?"

Natasha smiled somberly. "They're always hard to come by." She sighed heavily. "I won't lie to you, Wanda. No matter what you decide to do next, there is a long, difficult road ahead of you. You are going to be in a great deal of pain, and that pain is not going to go away, not for a very long time, if ever. Nothing I'm suggesting is going to make that path any easier for you."

Wanda nodded slowly, as if in agreement. "Does that mean you'll teach me? To be like you?"

"I _will_ teach you, yes," Natasha nodded gravely. "And so will Steve. But not to be like us. We will help you learn to be yourself - your _true_ self, the person you were always meant to be." She smiled somberly. "And I don't think that person was ever meant to be a monster."

Natasha watched Wanda's expression carefully. The young woman was clearly considering Natasha's proposal.

"What's the catch?" Wanda asked finally.

Natasha frowned in puzzlement. "The catch?"

"Yeah. You know. The fine print. It's this or prison, right?"

"Probably," Natasha agreed reluctantly.

"What if it doesn't work out?"

"We can cross that bridge, if or when we ever get there," Natasha declared. "I wouldn't have made the offer, Wanda, if I thought you couldn't hold up your end of the bargain."

"And the other Avengers... they would accept me?"

"Of course they would."

"Even Tony Stark?"

"Even Tony Stark."

"They wouldn't... hate me?" Wanda asked anxiously. "For what I've done? For the harm I caused?"

Natasha tried desperately not to think about Bruce Banner. "We don't hold grudges," she answered firmly. "We're Avengers, not Revengers."

Wanda turned her gaze back to the rain, leaning forward, elbows on knees, thinking furiously.

"You don't need to make this decision right away," Natasha added. "Think about it for a while, if you need to."

Wanda shook her head slowly. "I don't need more time. I just don't know if it will work."

Natasha felt a slight twinge in her stomach. She'd had similar anxieties about joining S.H.I.E.L.D. - even with Clint and Fury openly supporting her. _Whatever you do, don't give me hope._ She and Wanda were far more alike than she realized.

"I'll make you a promise," Natasha suggested.

Wanda looked back at her. "What?"

"I will never give up on you," Natasha declared solemnly. "As long as you don't give up on yourself."

Wanda regarded Natasha thoughtfully. She was utterly serious. Natasha held out a hand.

"Do we have a deal?"

Wanda looked at the outstretched hand for a long moment, wavering. Slowly, she took Natasha's hand in hers and squeezed it tightly.

"We have a deal," she agreed.

"All right, then." Natasha nodded in grave satisfaction.

After a few minutes had passed, and Wanda was calmer, she straightened up and sniffed discreetly, wiping her nose with the edge of her sleeve. "What happens now?" she asked in a ragged voice.

"Steve will come for us, when it's safe," Natasha told her, and then gave her a reassuring smile. "Until then, I'll start training you - informally."

"What, right here?"

"Yes, right here."

"In the middle of nowhere?"

"I can't think of a better place," Natasha declared. "We have safety, we have seclusion... no distractions."

Wanda's expression suggested she didn't entirely agree, but she wasn't going to argue. "Okay, then, where do we start?"

"Well I'm afraid today's lessons will be a little boring," Natasha allowed. "I'm going to teach you how to fill a propane tank, and how to shop for produce. Maybe how to steal a car."

Despite herself, Wanda giggled, and the two women shared their first tentative smile of friendship.

"I have to admit, I'm actually looking forward to this," Natasha admitted. "It will be nice to finally have another woman on the team. You have _no_ idea what a locker room it's been like this past year, working with a bunch of seriously boneheaded men."

Natasha shook her head and rolled her eyes, and despite her heavy heart, Wanda burst out laughing.

Natasha stood up and held her hand out to her newfound friend. "Come on, let's get going," she exhorted. "Today is your first day as an official Avenger in training. Let's see if we can't make the most of it."

Wanda let Natasha help her to her feet, and together they walked towards the car.

"Where are we going?" Wanda asked.

"To start... we need to find some fresh eggs for breakfast."

"Hey, I thought you said I didn't have to worry about anything but eating and sleeping," Wanda protested with a mischievous grin.

"Yeah. I lied," Natasha grinned back. "Spies do that. A lot. Get used to it. Now get in the car."

They clambered into the vehicle, and a few moments later, they were headed down the mud-caked road towards the interstate, and for whatever the day would bring them next.


	4. Chapter 4

"Talk to me," Steve Rogers ordered tersely as he entered the cavernous conference room at the new Avengers upstate facility.

Maria Hill looked up from her laptop in surprise. The dark-haired former deputy director of S.H.I.E.L.D. looked positively tiny, sitting by herself at an expansive table that was designed to seat twenty or more people. "Nice to see you too, Captain," she drawled. "Hey, Sam," she added in considerably brighter greeting to Sam Wilson, who was following a few steps behind.

"What is going on around here?" Steve demanded. "The whole place is deserted. There's no construction crews, no support staff, no military personnel - nothing."

Maria sighed. "Yeah. Long story," she said. "Why don't you have a seat?"

She made an inviting gesture with her hand, and after a moment, Steve settled himself into the nearest chair across from her. Sam took the seat next to Steve's.

"You guys want some coffee? There's a carafe on the sideboard." Maria cast a thumb to the opposite side of the room.

Sam's eyes lit up hopefully. "Fresh?"

"Well... I brewed it an hour ago."

"I'd rather have some answers," Steve said, with some heat. "This facility should be crawling with personnel. Where is everyone?"

"Furloughed. Tony had no choice, Steve. His financial assets have been frozen by the courts."

Steve and Sam exchanged a troubled glance.

"What, Stark's in the poorhouse?" Sam could hardly believe it.

"Nothing like that, Sam. Tony can explain this way better than I can, but he tells me this is all standard legal maneuvering. He asked to video conference with you, as soon as you checked in."

"Sitrep first," Steve ordered.

"As you requested, I've been looking into the extent of HYDRA's infiltration in various government and military agencies. The news isn't good."

"Let's have it."

"Senator Stern and Secretary Pierce were hardly outliers. It turns out, they were just the tip of the iceberg. Project Insight may have been 'plan A', but HYDRA was already well advanced in its 'plan B'. In the United States alone, we now have evidence that several senators and congressmen have some sort of ties to HYDRA. Not to mention top military officers of various ranks in all branches of the military, and an indeterminate number of junior officers. And that's just in this country. I haven't started on the judicial branches yet."

"What, are you saying the bad guys are now the good guys?" Sam frowned.

"Well... the goal of HYDRA was always to rule from within the existing political and military systems," Maria answered. "The collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't a contingency they'd prepared for. It was the endgame. S.H.I.E.L.D. was the only organization that represented any real threat to HYDRA's long term plans. If they couldn't take over the organization, then the next best option was to take us off the playing field. They've done that. Now they're moving into their final phase, operating out in the open, as a legitimate part of governments worldwide."

"Wait," Sam pleaded. "If some bigwig has ties to a known terrorist organization like HYDRA, can't we just, you know, arrest them?"

"It's not that simple, Sam," Maria sighed sympathetically. "The people we're talking about haven't done anything that is, strictly speaking, illegal. In fact, many of the politicians were legitimately elected to office while running on platforms openly sympathetic to HYDRA's goals."

"And when the time is right, they can advance legislation to further those goals." Steve finished the thought for her.

"Exactly. Rule from within the system. Put people sympathetic to your cause in key seats of power, then wait for the right moment to pull the levers."

"So, what levers are they pulling?" Sam asked.

"Up to now, there hasn't been much. As I said, Insight was 'plan A'. But after Sokovia, the activity began to pick up. A lot. There is international legislation under consideration that would place groups like ours either under the direct oversight of the United Nations, or by a specially-created committee for the purposes of oversight."

Steve grimaced. "And let me guess, the people drafting this legislation are all known HYDRA sympathizers?"

Maria sighed again. "We gave them a gift, Steve. New York was bad enough, but after Insight, Banner in South Africa, Sokovia..." she shook her head. "People are scared. _Really_ scared. The public wants checks on organizations like ours. And they are willing to cede any authority necessary in order to make it happen. We couldn't have played into HYDRA's hands any better if we'd tried."

Steve leaned forward in his seat, his elbows on the table, rubbing his eyes with his hands to mask his irritation. "Is there a vote pending?"

"The legislation isn't even out of draft yet. But I can guarantee you, it's coming. Although HYDRA has its sympathizers everywhere, none of them hold a majority in any government body around the world right now. They can only hope to be a persuasive minority. Unfortunately for us, we've just been tried in the court of public opinion, and the verdict is most definitely guilty. And as Tony pointed out, without S.H.I.E.L.D., we're kind of in legal limbo."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked. "Are we shut down?"

"Relax, Sam," Maria gave him a reassuring smile. "It's not illegal to be an Avenger - yet. There are still plenty of HYDRA cells out there engaged in straight-up terrorist activity, and we're still within the rule of international law if we go after them. But, if they could manage it, HYDRA would love nothing more than to get us off the playing field, too."

"Or co-opt us, so we'd end up working for them," Steve said grimly.

"That's about the size of it," Maria nodded.

"So, what happens if the world governments pass this legislation?" Sam asked.

"We don't know what's in the wording, Sam, so it's impossible to say," Maria shrugged. "But if it came to that, there's always three choices. We can work under the auspices of whatever oversight committee the UN agrees upon. Or, we can disband." She paused uncomfortably.

"And the third choice?" Steve asked.

"We go rogue." Maria watched carefully for Steve's reaction. "Operate out of the shadows."

"You mean, become vigilantes," Steve said grimly. "Working outside the law."

"Your team can handle that, Captain," Maria reminded him gently. "Both Barton and Romanoff have spent most of their careers working in espionage. It wouldn't faze them."

Steve managed to give Maria a tight-lipped smile. "But you're worried it _would_ faze me."

"The thought had crossed my mind," Maria admitted in all candor, and then her expression turned somber. "Steve... just so we're clear, however this goes down, I'm in the foxhole with you, until this is all over. One way or another."

"Thank you, Maria. That means a lot."

"Tony and Pepper may sign my checks, but we're way beyond jobs now. The Avengers are your team, Captain. I'm your soldier. Give me your orders. I'll follow them to the best of my ability."

"Yeah, what she said," Sam added solemnly.

"Thank you. Both of you." Steve found himself genuinely moved by Maria's words, and he had to draw in a deep breath to settle himself. "Well, then, let's get Tony conferenced in, so we can find out just how bad things are for us on the legal front."

Maria touched a few keystrokes on her laptop, and the large video screen began to glow softly. A moment later, Tony Stark's face appeared.

"Hey, it's about time you guys found the 'on' button," he quipped.

"Sorry, Tony, we were having a little sidebar," Maria deadpanned.

"Actually, you do have a bar there, you know," Tony said. "Second floor. Opposite end of the hallway from the kitchen. It's fully stocked."

"What's the situation there, Tony?" Steve asked.

"Well, so, the terms of house arrest aren't as bad as I first thought. It's actually the combat suit that's under house arrest, not me. As long as I don't wear it, I don't get thrown in jail."

"What, like, forever?" Sam was appalled.

"Is that Sam Wilson?" Tony peered closer into the camera, and his face was comically distorted across the width of the oversized screen. "Hey, Sam, welcome to the team."

"Thanks, man. I appreciate that."

"We'll send you a secret decoder ring as soon as possible. And no, it's not forever. This is an injunction - it's basically a short-term tactic to keep me grounded, while the bad guys try to figure out a way to make that situation permanent."

"But _you're_ free to go?" Steve sought to clarify.

"I can go anywhere I want, just as long as I don't do so as Iron Man. Tony Stark is free as a bird. But for the moment, I thought the best tactic would be for me to stay here, in the glare of the spotlight. As long as all eyes are on me, there's less chance anyone comes after the rest of you. I take it you guys made it to the new facility without any trouble?"

"Except for the fact that no one's here."

"That's deliberate, Cap. The site's already remote, and if everyone thinks we've shut the place down, it should keep the bad guys off your doorstep for at least a little while longer. I've been whining to the press that I couldn't keep the site open, without co-sponsorship from both S.H.I.E.L.D. and the military. So far, they seem to be buying it."

"What's this we've heard about freezing your assets?"

"Legal hogwash," Tony snorted. "You always go after the other guy's money. Or tie it up, so he can't use it. That's rule one. But I've got so many nested shell corporations it would make your head spin. I've no need to activate them yet, but I will, if things get ugly enough."

"So, what resources do we have here?"

"Well, the facility is hardly the shining citadel we originally planned," Tony sighed. "You're basically stuck with what amounts to a four-story five-star hotel in the middle of nowhere. The main building is more or less complete. There's a quinjet in an adjacent underground hangar, invisible to radar, and as long as you guys are inside the main building, you should remain undetected by most standard surveillance equipment. I think there may be three or four cars in the garage. All can be activated by voice command. Except for Sam. Sorry, Sam, I had no idea you'd be there."

"No worries. We'll figure something out."

"You also have a first aid station, more like a fully equipped trauma center, on the first floor, but obviously no doctor or medical staff. The kitchen should be fully stocked. I'll have two of my private staff come out in a day or two and make sure you have clean sheets for the beds, and eggs in the pantry, that kind of stuff. And from that conference room, you can video link with just about anyone else on the planet in complete security. But everything else we were going to do - the labs, the hangars, the barracks and weapons facilities - none of that has been built yet. Even the groundwork hasn't been laid for most of those buildings."

"What about physical security?"

"Tony's already shown me how to check the monitors and alert systems," Maria answered. "We have no walls or fences or any sort of physical barriers established around the property. But, if anything larger than a rabbit comes onto the grounds, we'll know about it."

"That will have to do, for now," Steve decided aloud. "Tony, I don't suppose there's any chance we'll see you out here any time soon?"

"Not unless you want to tip off our various and sundry bad guys that our abandoned headquarters isn't so abandoned," Tony replied. "Unless you think otherwise, I should stay here, keep the weapons of mass distraction going full blast, at least until we can convince the local authorities not to throw us all in jail on sight."

"That's a nuisance for you," Steve lamented. "I'm sorry, Tony."

Tony shrugged. "I'm used to it. Mind you, I've played to better crowds." He paused. "You should know, Stark Tower has been searched - twice - by various authorities looking for our little Scarlet Witch," he confided in a low voice. "They have warrants to take her into custody, assuming they can find her. And there are still dragnets all over the city, looking for her. I really hope you've got her tucked away somewhere safe."

"She's off-grid, with Natasha."

"That's good. They want her, Cap. Badly. Maximoff is the only known surviving associate of Ultron, and almost every international law enforcement organization wants to hang her out to dry - if not just hang her, period."

"Yeah. I was afraid of that."

"I've still got my legal team working on the best defense we can create for her. But we need to let some of the furor die down, before she resurfaces. Otherwise, I'm not sure we or anyone could protect her."

"You're taking the heat for all of us, Tony. I don't know how we can thank you for this."

"I've made my own mistakes regarding Ultron, I'll pay for them," Tony said simply. "I sure hope you're right about the Maximoff kid. We're taking a big risk for her sake."

"Yes, we are. But it's the right thing to do."

"I'll keep you posted on developments here. For now, though, keep the lowest profile you can manage. Let me know if there's anything else I can do at this end."

"We will, Tony. And thanks again, for everything."

"I'll talk to you guys soon. Take care."

The screen flickered off. Steve, Sam and Maria all sat in somber silence for a long moment. Finally, Sam stirred himself. "Orders, Cap?"

Steve looked over at Maria. "I'm assuming you haven't been here long enough to go over the entire building?"

"I know where everything's supposed to be. I haven't verified most of it."

"Then let's begin by taking a quick floor-to-floor survey, find out where everything is, what supplies we have stockpiled, see if anything critical is missing. This is going to be our home ground. Let's make sure we could navigate it blindfolded."

"Residence suites are on the top floor," Maria suggested. "According to Tony, none of them have been claimed yet, but all of them should be ready for use. We can each pick one."

"Good. But let's start on the ground floor. Beginning with, the quinjet hangar. I have a feeling we might need to use that equipment sooner rather than later."

As they walked out of the conference room together, Maria turned to Sam and gave him a mischievous grin. "So, you're a fully fledged Avenger now, are you?"

"I had a personal invitation from Captain America," Sam said proudly.

"Oh. I thought he was only keeping you around because you're good-looking."

"Now, you _know_ I can hold my own in a firefight," Sam started to protest, and then he sputtered to a halt. "Wait, did you just call me good-looking?"

Maria chuckled softly. "Keep up, Sam," she exhorted him. "This firefight's just getting started."


	5. Chapter 5

Natasha awoke suddenly, as if some silent alarm had suddenly gone off inside her head. She stared insensibly at the low wood beams of the ceiling above her for several moments, orienting herself. She was in the cottage. In the bedroom. And it was light enough for her to see, which meant...

Natasha pushed herself up on one elbow and carefully parted the curtain of the tiny bedroom window. It was a glorious morning outside, beautiful clear blue skies, and not a cloud to be seen. It was also obvious that the sun had been up for several hours, and Natasha sighed with chagrin. She hadn't intended to sleep so late. But she had to admit, reluctantly, that the additional rest had done her a world of good. The few muscle aches she felt had come from sleeping in one position for longer than normal. Some quick exercise would banish that easily enough.

She rolled over to see Wanda still sleeping soundly next to her. Natasha watched her for several moments, deep concern evident on her face. For most of the last week, Wanda hadn't slept so much as lost consciousness at irregular intervals. But now, it was obvious that the girl was finally enjoying a normal sleep cycle. Her breathing was deep and regular, her body completely relaxed, all the previous muscle tension gone. The dark circles that had been so prominent under her eyes had faded considerably, and Wanda's too-pale skin finally had some color to it. Natasha sighed with great relief. Rest was what Wanda needed more than anything else - undisturbed, restorative rest. And while she had promised to train Wanda, Natasha realized she needed to scale back those plans - drastically. Neither of them were in any condition to attempt anything as rigorous as combat training. They would have to work their way up to that, and slowly. Still, there were all sorts of other viable options to consider to begin Wanda's training, and Natasha's mind began to buzz as she considered the possibilities.

Taking great care not to disturb Wanda, Natasha clambered out of the bed. The bed was large and quite comfortable, but it took up nearly all the space of the tiny room. She slipped out into the narrow hallway, and made a discreet dash for the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerged feeling much refreshed, and quickly shrugged herself into her exercise gear: sports bra, heavy cotton hoodie with a zip front, jog pants and cross-trainers. She went into the small living room and threw open the front door.

As Natasha had seen from the window, the weather couldn't possibly have been more cooperative: bright sunshine, cloudless blue sky, the temperature just to the agreeable side of nippy. Natasha sniffed at the air. Rain was coming, but not until later; there would be plenty of time to take Wanda up to the lake. Provided, of course, the young woman actually managed to wake up sometime within in the next hour. Grinning to herself, Natasha began to stretch out her leg and arm muscles, slowly, gingerly, assuring herself that she was more or less intact, and that everything still worked.

She slipped back inside to see if Wanda was still asleep. More than anything, Natasha desperately wanted to go for a short run. She had been more or less confined to the hotel while stranded in Manhattan, and the lack of exercise chafed. She was anxious to resume a normal routine as soon as possible - but she was reluctant to leave Wanda alone for any period of time, no matter how short.

As Natasha peeked around the corner into the bedroom, she saw that Wanda had rolled over onto her back, one arm raised to her forehead. Hearing Natasha, she opened her eyes and smiled groggily at her.

"You let me sleep," she said, her voice deep and husky.

"That's because I overslept," Natasha admitted with a rueful smile.

"What time is it?"

"Just after ten."

"Yikes. We _did_ oversleep."

"Yes, we did. How are you feeling?"

Wanda slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, grimacing slightly. "I ache all over," she admitted. "But I'd like to get up. I don't want to lie in bed all day."

"Good. I was thinking we could go up to the lake this morning."

Wanda's eyes widened with interest. "There's a lake?"

"A very pretty lake, not quite a kilometer from here. With a nice, flat meadow where we can take some exercise before breakfast. And it's a perfect morning out. After you've limbered up, you won't even need a jacket."

Wanda's expression abruptly changed to one so crestfallen that Natasha frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I... don't have anything to wear," Wanda said sheepishly.

Natasha grinned. "Actually, you do. I picked up some gear for you while we were in New York. Obviously, I couldn't have you try anything on, but the outfits should fit well enough for now."

Wanda smiled gratefully. "You've been very kind to me."

"I've already told you, my interest in you is purely self-serving," Natasha retorted with a wicked grin.

"All the same, thank you."

"Get dressed," Natasha ordered. "Use the bathroom if you need to. Your clothes are in the dark blue duffle bag on the couch in the living room. And be sure to drink a glass of water before we leave," she added sternly. "Mission one is to get you re-hydrated as quickly as possible."

"Okay." Wanda swung her legs out over the side of the bed, and with a soft grunt, pushed herself upright.

A few moments later, both women were standing on the front porch, dressed in their workout gear. Natasha noted approvingly that Wanda knew how to limber up her muscles before exercising.

"Are you up for a run?" she asked hopefully.

Wanda smiled shyly. "I think so. Just don't go too fast."

"Why don't we start out at a brisk jog, and see how you do," Natasha suggested, and Wanda nodded her agreement. A few minutes later, they set out together on a worn path through the woods just to the north side of the cottage.

The path had yet to be cleared and graded after the long winter, but the ground underneath was firm and not too muddy. Natasha kept one wary eye on her companion as they ran. As she thought, Wanda had precious little stamina, and her breathing became quite labored, even after proceeding only a short distance. Seeing Natasha's worried glance, Wanda shook her head vehemently as if to say, _no, I'm all right, I can do this._ The path had a gentle but steady incline as they made their way through the forest. Although she was clearly struggling, Wanda gamely kept pace with Natasha, and after a few minutes they found themselves in an open glade, with a beautiful, serene lake just ahead of them.

Wanda gasped, not only from exertion but with genuine delight. The wide smile on her face said what she could not, and Natasha returned the smile. She pointed towards the shoreline, and Wanda nodded breathlessly. They continued their run until they found themselves alongside a muddy bank that ran down to the water's edge.

Wanda stopped at the top of the embankment, doubled forward, hands on her knees, sucking in wind. Natasha indicated with a gesture that she was going to continue to the far side of the clearing and back. Wanda nodded her understanding, and watched as her friend effortlessly sprang forward and raced away - she had obviously been holding back for Wanda's sake - and sprinted to the tree line and back with no apparent effort. Wanda had managed to straighten up by the time Natasha rejoined her.

"Guess I'm... not good enough... for the Avengers... yet, huh?" Wanda asked, still gulping in air.

Natasha smiled sympathetically. "Believe it or not, Wanda, I'm well below where I should be, too. We both have a lot of work to do."

"You're... not even... breathing hard," Wanda protested.

"Oh, I am, trust me. But I expect that my conditioning is better than yours. We'll work on that first."

Wanda was still drinking in the natural beauty of the site. "This place is amazing," she panted, her breathing slowly returning to normal. "Nobody comes up here?"

"Oh, it's way too early yet for people," Natasha explained. "Spring is notoriously fickle around here. You could have almost summer weather one day, and then a foot of snow the next. But in the summer months, this whole lake will be crowded with boats, and people taking picnics on the banks or up here in the glade... it's one of the most popular getaway spots upstate."

"It's beautiful."

"Yes, it is," Natasha agreed, taking a moment to appreciate the view herself. "Okay, so, are you ready to begin your training?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Have you ever practiced yoga before?"

"Yoga?" Wanda blinked in surprise. "Ahh, no. I mean, I know what it is, but I've never done any exercises, or anything."

"Well, then, that's where we'll start," Natasha decided aloud. Seeing Wanda's evident perplexity, she smiled. "You have a question?"

"No, well, yeah, I mean..." Wanda floundered for a moment. "I thought you were going to teach me how to fight."

"Oh, we will get to that, trust me," Natasha purred. "But right now, you and I are both beat up and hurting. So we are going to get ourselves into some decent conditioning first. This morning, we'll start on some exercises designed to help build up your strength and endurance. That's the body part. This afternoon, I'll teach you some meditation techniques -"

Wanda snorted with laughter. "You're going to teach me to _meditate?"_

"Yes. I am," Natasha declared. "And don't get smart with your teacher, grasshopper."

"What's meditation going to do for me?"

Natasha's expression sombered slightly. "Wanda, right now, you need to restore your sense of equilibrium," she said quietly. "And most of all, you need to heal. You've been hurt, physically and emotionally, far more than you realize. Meditation can help you center yourself, especially when there are traumatic events in your life that knock you off-balance. I'm going to teach you how to take care of your body and your spirit. Laugh if you like, but there's nothing more important. Everything you want to do is going to come from this first step. Until you know how to properly care for yourself, you can achieve nothing else."

Wanda still seemed nonplussed, but she nodded that she was willing to try. "And you think that yoga and meditation can really help me?"

"I know they will." Natasha permitted herself a quiet smile. "I'm guessing Strucker never taught you anything like that."

"Strucker didn't really teach me anything," Wanda admitted. "He was more like..." she shrugged helplessly.

"Nurturing a mindset to sacrifice yourself without question," Natasha suggested. The sharp tone of disapproval in her voice was unmistakeable.

"Yeah," Wanda agreed sadly.

"I'll teach you a better definition of sacrifice," Natasha vowed. "One that doesn't involve mindless martyrdom to a cause." With an effort, she pushed her anger out of her mind; and then gave Wanda a reassuring smile. "One more thing. I want you to start paying very close attention to what your body is telling you. If you're in pain, I expect you to tell me. If some exercise we're doing hurts you, stop. And above all, if your body tells you that you need to rest, then rest. Once you've got your strength back, we can worry about pushing you more. Right now, I want your entire focus to be on healing. Don't think about anything else, don't act on anything else. Are we clear?"

Wanda nodded solemnly. "Yes."

"Good. Now, the first thing I want you to do, stand up straight, but not rigid. No tension in your stance."

Wanda experimented for a moment. "Okay."

Natasha shook her head disapprovingly. "No. You're planting your back leg. Locking the knee. Putting extra pressure on your hip. Don't do that. Stand with both legs slightly apart. Arms loose at your sides. Try to place no additional stresses on your joints at all."

Wanda adjusted her stance slightly, and Natasha nodded. "Better. Now. Take in a deep breath. Deep as you can. Hold it, and then exhale, as slowly as you can."

Wanda did as requested.

"And again."

Wanda repeated the exercise once more.

"Now, how do you feel?" Natasha asked.

Wanda looked up at Natasha in wide-eyed surprise. There was an almost immediate and unmistakable rise in her energy level. "Wow," she murmured.

Natasha grinned. "Amazing, right? And that's after just two deep breaths. I want you to get into the habit of listening to your body, Wanda. Pay attention to what it's saying to you. Your body communicates with you all the time, but if you're like me, mostly, we tend to ignore or suppress what it's trying to tell us. Don't. Your powers are centered in your body. The better you feel, the more powerful you'll become. My guess is, you've only tapped into a fraction of the power you actually have. We'll work on getting you to a place where you can see just how powerful you really are."

"I'm ready," Wanda declared excitedly, and Natasha grinned at her.

"Okay, then. Balance in all things. First, yoga poses for beginners. Let's start with the mountain..."

* * *

Steve Rogers was crossing the expansive lobby of the Avengers upstate facility when he noticed a portly man in a dark suit ambling towards him from the opposite side of the building.

"Happy?" Steve could hardly believe his eyes. "Happy Hogan?"

"Hey, Cap. I was hoping I could find you before I took off." He offered a hamhock-sized hand in greeting. Steve clasped it warmly.

"What are you doing here?"

"Pepper sent me over, with two of her personal staff to help run this place for you. I just left 'em with Maria in the conference room, a couple of minutes ago."

Steve frowned. "Happy, I appreciate the thought, but I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Hey, you got enough on your plate, Cap. Let us do something to help you, huh? You guys worry about saving the world. We'll make sure there's somebody here who can keep beer in the fridge, and knows where the fuse box is."

Steve arched an eyebrow in amusement. "This place has fuses?"

Happy Hogan chuckled. "Yeah. I thought you'd appreciate that reference. Anyway. Pepper vets all her staff personally. They can be trusted to keep their mouths shut. For now, though, we want to keep any staff here at a minimum. We're still pretending this place is deserted."

"So, no one's mowing the grass, then."

"This'll blow over, Cap. These things do." Happy's normally genial expression sobered. "You should know. There's been a whole damn army of volunteers offering to help you guys," he confided in a lower voice. "Ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. Navy SEALs. Marines. They've been coming up to Tony - hell, they've been coming up to _me_ \- offering any assistance you need. They don't care if they get paid. They just want to pay something back. Not everyone thinks you guys are monsters, Cap. And not everybody wants to sue your ass. There are some of us who realize the world is a whole lot safer, because of what you do. And there's a lot more of us who are really grateful." There was a slight tremor in Happy's voice as he spoke.

"Thanks, Happy. That means a lot."

"I know you don't hear this enough, so, thanks, Cap. And if there's anything you need out here, just yell."

"We'll do that, Happy. And thank you."

"I don't suppose you've heard anything from Natasha," Happy ventured hopefully.

Steve shook his head. "She's off-grid. For now."

"Yeah. I figured as much. Do me a favor. Next time you talk to her, tell her, we're overdue to split a few bottles of wine. I don't mean just her and me. I mean you, me, Tony, Tasha, Pepper... everybody. You saved the world, Cap. We should celebrate." He fumbled in his suit coat pocket for his car keys. "Okay, I gotta run," he declared. "Tony's having his legal eagles file all the court paperwork on behalf of the Maximoff kid this morning. I haven't read it all, but I guess he's declaring her an official member of the Avengers, trying to improve her legal standing. And that any extradition charges or warrants for her arrest are gonna be formally challenged through the courts. That should go over real well."

Steve grimaced. "So I should probably skip watching the news tonight?"

"Like I said, Cap. Not everybody thinks you're the bad guys. Only they don't get on camera as much as the yapping heads do. Like the saying goes, a lie gets halfway around the world, before the truth even gets his pants on. I think Roosevelt said that."

Steve grinned broadly. "Actually, that was Churchill."

"You would know. Take care, Captain. I'll be in touch."

As the man lumbered away, a faint smile played on Steve's lips. The last week had been grating on all of them - but to know there were people out there who still believed and supported the Avengers was immensely cheering. Perhaps not everything was as bad as he imagined. Still, officially coming to Wanda's defense was bound to raise hackles. It was time for Steve to make a few calls of his own. He hurried quickly away.


	6. Chapter 6

"Pietro, no! Pietro!"

Natasha awoke with a start, to find Wanda stirring uneasily in the bed beside her, trapped in the grip of a terrible nightmare. Natasha pushed herself up on one elbow. Wanda was still asleep, and her eyes were closed; but tears were streaming down the girl's cheeks, and she was whimpering as if in pain or fright. Wanda had called out her brother's name. It was obvious her nightmare involved him. Natasha leaned over, her lips just above Wanda's ear.

"Wanda," Natasha called out softly, in a voice just barely above a whisper. "Wanda. It's okay. You're just dreaming. I'm right here beside you. You're safe with me. You're safe."

Wanda murmured something unintelligible, but then her body relaxed, and a few moments later her deep, regular breathing assured Natasha that her companion had fallen back into a calming, dreamless sleep. Natasha sighed gratefully. They had been at the cottage a full week now, but this was the first time that Wanda's sleep had been disturbed by a nightmare. Before she lay back down, Natasha impulsively left a kiss on Wanda's cheek.

Natasha didn't fall asleep right away. She tried to relax, but sleep eluded her; her thoughts churned restlessly about Wanda, and the events that had led them both to this place.

Even the most cursory list of the main events of Wanda's short life was horrific. She had been orphaned at age ten, when a mortar shell had cratered the apartment building she and her family lived in - a mortar shell manufactured by Tony Stark's weapons division. Wanda likely hadn't actually seen her parents die, but she almost certainly saw them disappear into a haze of smoke, fire and disintegrating concrete, crying out in pain and terror, never to be seen again. Only Wanda and her brother Pietro somehow survived. Wanda's hatred of Stark was only too real, and, Natasha realized sadly, not entirely without justification.

At some point - Natasha wasn't sure exactly when - Wanda and her brother had been scooped up by the odious Baron Strucker and his men, and exhorted if not openly forced to be subjects of his illegal human experiments. Strucker was attempting to create an army of soldiers with enhanced, superhuman abilities. God only knows how many test subjects Strucker had gone through; there were no records of his tests. The only thing known for certain was that Wanda and her brother were the only ones who survived the program, utterly transformed from ordinary teenagers into - how was it, that Tony Stark described them? - living weapons. Almost certainly, they had seen several of their fellow test subjects die in agony, while Strucker and his scientists attempted by blind trial and error to turn them all into super-beings.

Then, the one constant in Wanda's life, her brother Pietro, had been killed by Ultron in an act of senseless cruelty. Wanda had not seen her brother die, but she did see his bullet-ridden corpse less than an hour after the murder. Natasha wondered if she'd had such an experience, would she have been strong enough to survive it? Natasha had been forcibly separated from her family when she was just a child, but that was nothing compared to Wanda's experiences, seeing each of her family members killed off one by one. Natasha realized with sudden bitterness, that if Wanda and her brother had never met Strucker, the whole disaster that was the Ultron project might never have happened - and all the fallout the team was facing now simply wouldn't exist.

Natasha rolled onto her side, sighing heavily. "What ifs" were useless. She could only proceed from where she was now. One thing was certain: if Wanda was going to become an Avenger, she and Tony Stark would need to find some way to reconcile and work together. There was no Hulk-sized lullaby that was going to fix that particular problem.

In the week since they'd removed themselves to the cottage, Natasha and Wanda had started an informal training program together. There had been little progress, but Natasha had expected as much. Natasha knew that Wanda's strength was being sapped by the grief of her brother's death, and that her concentration would be a fraction of what it should be. Natasha's expectations were woefully met. They would do strength and conditioning exercises up by the lake each morning, but that so far had been the extent of the training. Wanda would sleep whole afternoons away, and then sleep soundly through the night - but at least now she was sleeping, instead of keening with pain twenty-four hours a day. Natasha was determined to help keep Wanda on an even keel emotionally. What surprised Natasha most was how remarkably whole Wanda seemed, in spite of everything that had happened to her. She was hurting, badly; but did not use her pain as an excuse. She gamely tried to follow all of Natasha's lessons and exercises, and understood the value of them. She put forth the maximum effort that her wounded spirit and body would allow. _She's a fighter,_ Natasha thought to herself. _Good. She needs to be, if she's really going to join the team._

It took a while, but gradually, Natasha's own anger and resentment ebbed away to the point where she could fall asleep again. She wasn't aware of it, but as she fell asleep, she rolled over next to Wanda, snuggling close, draping a protective arm over the sleeping girl.

* * *

The following morning featured glorious weather, cool but not overly cold with bright sunshine, and Wanda seemed to have more energy than usual. She also seemed blissfully unaware of her nightmare from the previous evening. In fact, she was in the best spirits Natasha had seen since their arrival in America, smiling easily and even laughing a few times during their morning exercises.

That afternoon, however, Wanda's energy flagged again, and while she didn't actually fall asleep, she curled up on the couch in the living room, while Natasha tried to distract herself by creating a crude Venn diagram of all the HYDRA agents she'd come into contact with in the last six months, trying to divine a sense of the organization's reach by listing the actor's names and their possible relations to one another. She sat in the comfortable upholstered chair across from Wanda, pad of paper in hand, frowning in irritation at the uncertain scribbles she left on the paper.

Natasha was suddenly aware that something was subtly different; she wasn't sure what had triggered her inner alert, she hadn't heard or seen anything, but she was certain there was now someone on the property, someone close by. She glanced over at Wanda, and she could tell that she sensed it, too. Natasha put down her pad and pencil on the table beside her, straightening up in the chair. Then she realized what had caught her ear: a momentary lull in the birdsong, a flicker of silence, then the normal background noise returned. It might have been a predator passing by, a wolf perhaps, or a large cat; but why then was she certain they were being watched?

Miming to Wanda to stay where she was, Natasha got up and headed for the cottage door. After a moment's deliberation, she opened the door as quietly as she could, and stepped out onto the porch. There was nothing she could see that seemed odd or out of place. The late afternoon sun was already slowly sinking past the tree line; darkness was only an hour off. Cautiously, Natasha stepped off the porch and onto the gravel drive. If they were being observed, it was someone who was known and trusted by the local wildlife; otherwise the forest would have gone completely silent for far longer than just a few seconds. A happy realization came to Natasha, and she grinned in relief.

"All right, Barton," she called out in the direction of the closest trees, only a few paces away from where she stood. "Stop playing around. I know you're there. Come on out."

There was no immediate response, and Natasha was just about to call out again when there was a faint rustle from the closest tree; and as she watched, Clint Barton, dressed all in black, dropped silently to the ground from somewhere in the branches above. He had hidden himself so well, Natasha did not actually see him until he moved. He pulled back the hood of his jacket and grinned broadly at her.

"There's no _way,"_ he protested. "No freakin' way! You didn't see or hear me. You _couldn't_ have!"

"You're right, I didn't," Natasha admitted.

"Then how did you know I was up there?"

"I know you," Natasha answered simply. "I don't need to see you in order to find you, Clint. I just know where to look."

The two old friends came together, wrapping each other in a close hug. Natasha felt unexpected tears smarting her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Natasha asked, when the finally released each other.

"Well, to borrow a phrase... I've come to take you away from all this."

Natasha arched an eyebrow. "Really," she drawled.

Clint grinned sheepishly. "Cap called me," he admitted. "He said you'd taken Wanda off-grid and he asked me to find you. Since you didn't turn up at the farmhouse, I figured there were only a couple other places you might have gone. I'd've been here sooner, but I figured that you were at the bungalow. Obviously, I got that wrong."

"Oh, damn," Natasha swore softly. "I'd forgotten all about that place! I really should have gone there instead."

"Yeah, well, I found you now. Did you leave me any groceries, or is the place emptied out?"

Natasha smiled. "We didn't clean you out completely. Wanda and I made a run to the farmer's market on our first day."

"That was risky," Clint frowned with concern.

Natasha shrugged. "There was no way I was letting Wanda out of my sight, not with all that's happened."

"Where is our newest rookie, by the way?"

"Inside." Natasha turned and called out towards the cottage. "Wanda, it's okay! Come on out! Come see who's here!" After a moment, she realized she'd forgotten to use the code phrase they'd agreed upon. "All clear!" she added quickly.

The door opened slightly, and Wanda cautiously peeked out; but as soon as she saw Clint, she threw open the door, ran down the steps, and launched herself into his arms.

"Hey there, kiddo. _Oof!"_ Clint grunted in surprise at the force of Wanda's hug.

"I think she's happy to see you, Clint," Natasha grinned.

"Good to see you too, Wanda," Clint said, hugging her back. The two of them held each other for a very long time, and Natasha suddenly remembered with a pang of dismay that not only had Pietro Maximoff saved Clint's life, Clint had actually seen the boy die. Clint wasn't responsible for Pietro's death, they all knew that. But knowing that didn't make either of them feel any better. Clint left a paternal kiss on Wanda's forehead, and she clung to him tightly, a few stray tears leaking from her eyes.

"I'm so glad you're safe," Clint murmured, hugging Wanda again.

* * *

The early spring days were still short, and it was well after dark before the three friends had secured the cottage, loaded up the car and headed out to the interstate highway that would take them upstate to the new Avengers headquarters. Only a few minutes after they departed, Wanda stretched out on the back seat, covered herself with a quilt, and promptly dropped off to sleep.

Clint took his eyes off the road for a fraction of a second, just to reassure himself that Wanda was still there. Then he turned his full attention back to his driving.

"How is she?" he asked Natasha, as if he didn't already know the answer.

Natasha sighed sadly. "Hurting," she admitted after a moment. "But she's strong. She'll make it."

Clint digested that in silence for a while. "And how are you?"

Natasha made a slight, indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well... babysitting isn't exactly your thing."

"I'm not babysitting. I'm a bodyguard."

Clint snorted in amusement. "I don't think Wanda needs a bodyguard for anything." He shot a questioning glance towards Natasha. "Cap says it was your idea to make her an Avenger."

"It was your idea first," Natasha shot back.

"I was just surprised you spoke up for her. That's all."

Natasha frowned. "Is there some reason I shouldn't?"

Clint mulled over his reply very carefully. "She hurt you, Nat. Bad. I don't usually see you get shook. Not like that." He kept his eyes deliberately on the road. "And as for what she did to Banner, well..."

"Bruce will forgive her."

Clint looked over at Natasha in genuine surprise. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Natasha answered.

"She kind of ruined his life, Nat. I don't know if we're ever going to see him again," Clint said with obvious reluctance.

"We will," Natasha said with absolute assurance. "We'll see Bruce again. And when he sees Wanda, and sees how truly sorry she is, he'll forgive her. Without a second thought. Or a regret."

Clint shook his head and exhaled slowly. "You're asking a lot of your boyfriend."

"I know Bruce," Natasha said simply. "He can get angry. But he doesn't hold grudges. That's not who he is." She shot him a reproving glance. "And I never said he was my boyfriend."

"You didn't have to. That whole lullaby thing made it kind of obvious. It wouldn't work if you didn't have a real connection with him."

"It wasn't _that_ obvious," Natasha protested. "Laura must have said something to you."

"Ahh... she might have mentioned it."

"You disapprove?"

"I think Dr. Bruce Banner is the best thing that ever happened to you. I'm not so sure about his alter ego."

"He's schizophrenic, Clint, he doesn't have multiple personalities."

"Does that matter? If he goes off -"

"I can walk him back," Natasha answered firmly. "No matter how far out on the ledge he is. I can always bring him back. I could even have done it in Johannesburg, if I was on my feet then."

"If you say so."

"So, why are you being errand boy?" Natasha asked. "Shouldn't you be home with Laura and the kids?"

"Where have you been? I was at home for two whole weeks before Cap called me. Laura was beginning to tease me to go find a job."

"Still. You could have just told Steve where to look. You didn't need to come all the way out here yourself." She gave her friend a knowing glance. "You're worried about her too, aren't you?"

"Well... she is kind of our responsibility now, isn't she?" Clint smiled ruefully. "And I dunno, I can't help but feel she's basically a good kid. If we can help her get her life turned around, she could be not just an amazing Avenger, she could be an amazing person, period."

"I feel the same," Natasha confided quietly.

"Nat... once we get to the new HQ, Wanda needs to stay on the property," Clint cautioned. "Preferably, inside the building."

"We're continuing the house arrest in a bigger house?"

"Stark went in front of the cameras and told the world that Wanda's an Avenger. Anybody who wants to take her in for criminal trial is going to be challenged in the courts. But until her status is upheld, preferably by an international authority, she needs to stay out of sight."

"What about us?"

"The only eyewitnesses who saw us in Sokovia saw two Avengers defending helpless citizens against an army of sentient killer robots. You and I are in the clear. Wanda's not."

"There have to be some eyewitnesses who saw Wanda and Pietro working with Cap against Ultron in South Korea," Natasha protested.

"Stark's lining up as many of those people as possible. To keep the waters muddied if nothing else. It doesn't matter what the truth is any more, Nat. All that matters is, who controls the narrative."

Natasha couldn't quite suppress a shudder. "Every time I think I've left the KGB behind, I find there's just another version of it, lurking in every country in the world," she sighed sadly.

"Feeling a little paranoid tonight, are we?"

"No. It's just depressing."

"Well, you and I know the truth about Wanda. We just need everyone else to see it, too." He paused. "I was thinking of hanging around for a few days," he ventured. "Help Wanda get settled in. Maybe even help with her training."

"Clint, that's wonderful," Natasha exclaimed. "That will make her very happy."

"I hope so," Clint said in all sincerity.

"It will," Natasha insisted. "Wanda adores you." She gave him her warmest smile. "And it will make me very happy, too."

"Well, it will be nice, hanging out with you guys," Clint grinned. "The only bad guys shooting at us right now are all lawyers. That's one firefight we don't have to get directly involved in."

"I know. Poor Tony," Natasha sighed.

"I dunno, it's kind of fun to watch him writhe on the hot seat," Clint chuckled.

"You _do_ know, it's not nice to take pleasure in other people's misfortunes, right?"

"Yeah. But sometimes I can't help myself." Clint's grin faded slightly. "Hey, Stark knows better than any of us how to deal with the press and the lawyers," he admitted. "I'm glad he's got our backs. I don't know anybody else who could do that job half as well as he does."

"Well, I'm certainly a failure when it comes to public relations," Natasha sighed. "The few times I've had microphones and cameras shoved in my face, I always seem to be giving the world the finger."

"Maybe they should stop shoving the cameras in your face, then. Have you ever been out to the new facility?"

"Once. I was there when they broke ground on the main building. I haven't seen it since."

"This is my first trip. I guess only the residence wing has been completed. All other work is on hold for now."

"As long as we're not sleeping on a bare concrete floor, I'm fine with it."

"From what little I've heard, it sounds like a five-star hotel in the middle of nowhere. No pool table, though."

"It's supposed to be a work site, Clint, not a luxury spa."

"Well, Stark designed it, and you know how he likes his creature comforts."

"How long until we get there?"

"About three hours."

Natasha gave him a pleading look. "Do you mind if I power nap for a little while?"

"Go for it. It's not like you can look at the scenery in the dark."

"Thanks." Natasha reached over and put a hand on Clint's thigh. "And thank you, for coming to get us," she said quietly. "It really is good to see you, Clint. I really do miss you, when you're not around."

Clint smiled. "Good to see you, too, Nat. You want me to give you a shove, when we're about twenty minutes out?"

"That would be great."

Natasha settled back against the car seat and closed her eyes. She didn't like to admit even to herself, but the battle with Ultron had worn her down, badly. And while she bore Wanda no ill will for her own part in that fight, she'd had precious little 'down time' since then. She'd taken her fair share of afternoon cat naps while Wanda had been dozing. It would nice to have someone she trusted shouldering part of the load for a little while. Surrendering to her fatigue, rocked by the gentle motion of the moving car, Natasha quickly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

It was almost ten in the evening before the weary travelers arrived at the darkened facility. All the exterior lights were off, and save for emergency lighting in the lobby, all interior lights appeared to be off as well. It was impossible to see the structure in the darkness, and without lighting, it was nothing more than a great, monolithic shadow rising up to meet the sky. Sam Wilson was standing just outside the front entrance as the car pulled up the drive. He hurried down the steps to greet the new arrivals.

"Sorry about the blackout," he apologized. "We're still trying to pretend this place is deserted."

"You could have fooled me," Clint Barton admitted, stepping out of the vehicle and stretching his legs. "Good to see you, Sam. And glad to have you on board."

"On board?" Natasha frowned in puzzlement as she got out of the car. "Does that mean you're...?"

"Well, if you hadn't been on vacation, you'd know already," Sam deadpanned. "Yeah. I'm on the team now. Officially."

"That's wonderful news!" Natasha declared, hugging him in greeting. "I was hoping we could rope you in, somehow."

"Turns out, all you had to do was ask. So, where's our new recruit?"

"Sleeping." Natasha released Sam from her hug, and stepped to the rear passenger door. Wanda was still sound asleep, sprawled along the length of the back seat. Natasha leaned in and gently rubbed the palm of her hand along Wanda's shoulder.

"Wanda?" she called softly. "Wanda, time to get up, sweetie."

Wanda raised her head and blinked insensibly at Natasha through sleep-swollen eyes. "Natasha? Are we there yet?"

"Yes. We're here. Come on, let's get you inside and into a proper bed." She glanced back at Sam. "Please tell me we have beds."

Sam grinned. "We do. I think you're going to be pleasantly surprised with your quarters. You have any luggage?"

"In the back."

Wanda groggily hauled herself out of the vehicle, tottering slightly, and Natasha hurried to her side to help her.

"So, this is Wanda Maximoff," Sam looked her over critically. "Nice to finally meet you, Wanda. I've heard lots about you. All good things." Seeing that the girl was still asleep on her feet, he smiled tolerantly. "Uhh... why don't we make introductions in the morning," he suggested.

"That might be best," Natasha agreed.

"Cap would like to debrief first thing tomorrow morning. Right now, it's late, and you guys have been on the road awhile. So let me take you to your rooms."

"That would be great, Sam, thank you."

"Anywhere I can park the car out of sight?" Clint asked.

"Parking garage is around back. I've opened the gate for you, just go on in," Sam told him. "Park anywhere you like, then come meet us on the fourth floor. You'll see an elevator on the east end of the garage."

"Great. I'll see you guys in a few minutes." Clint secured the open doors, and then slowly drove the car along the driveway, disappearing around the corner of the building.

Sam took the two overnight cases, while Natasha supported Wanda, who was still barely functioning on autopilot.

"When you can actually see this place, it's pretty amazing," Sam said to Natasha, as they walked through the dimly lit lobby. "All the residence suites are on the top floor. Conference room and kitchen are on the second floor."

"I don't suppose you'd have a beer, or a glass or wine, or anything to eat?" Natasha asked hopefully.

Sam smiled. "Kitchen and bar are both fully stocked. We can throw together a quick meal for you, if you're hungry."

"Starving," Natasha admitted. She glanced at Wanda, who was barely conscious in her arms. "I think we'll put Wanda to bed first. Then you can give me the nickel tour."

"I thought for you and Wanda, we'd put you in the two suites on the east end," Sam suggested, as they entered the elevator. "It's private and quiet, away from everybody else. And, they're the only two suites with a connecting door."

"Sounds perfect."

A few moments later, they stepped out of the elevator and into an empty hallway. It could have been a walkway in any large, upscale hotel, although the construction was obviously recent, and a faint odor of new carpet and fresh paint was still noticeable.

Sam led them to the far end of the corridor, and pushed one of the doors open.

"Go on in," he invited. "Lights come on automatically. They're keyed to motion sensors."

Natasha stepped in, still supporting Wanda. The room was large, almost eight hundred square feet, with a king-size bed dominating the far wall. The room also contained an oversized armoire, as well as a small writing desk tucked away in the corner, and a low, round end table with two upholstered chairs. There was a balcony with sliding doors on the north end, but at the moment, it was impossible to see any view; the glass simply reflected back the lit interior. The walls were bare of any paintings or decorations, otherwise, the room was as comfortably furnished as any luxury hotel suite.

"The bathroom is through the walk-in closet that you passed on the way in," Sam told her, setting down the overnight cases. "That door over there connects the two suites. All doors have a simple mechanical lock that can be secured from the inside. There's also a palm reader outside each door, and we can key the room to your palm print, so the room stays secured if you're not around."

"Pretty fancy barracks for a group of soldiers," Natasha commented dryly, helping Wanda to sit on the edge of the bed.

"In this case, I think Stark had the right idea," Sam said thoughtfully. "This is gonna be your home away from home. You might as well have someplace comfortable to crash. You can put up any fixtures or decorations you like."

"We'll worry about that later," Natasha answered, kneeling down so she could pull off Wanda's boots. "Are you hungry at all, sweetie?"

This question was addressed to Wanda, and the girl gave the barest shake of her head.

"Okay, let's get your jacket off, and get you tucked in."

Clint ambled in from the corridor. "Pretty fancy digs around here," he harrumphed in mock disapproval. "Are all the rooms like this, or are we saving the nice rooms for the ladies?"

"These are the only two that connect and have balconies, so yeah, I guess Natasha and Wanda get the best rooms," Sam answered. "Cap, Maria and myself have taken rooms at the other end of the hall."

"Where can I crash?"

"Anywhere you like. Try a door. If it's locked, that means someone's already claimed it. But there should be eight suites on this floor that are still open."

"This is gonna be like living in a hotel."

"Yeah. Kind of," Sam grinned.

The men watched as Natasha turned down the bed, and helped Wanda sprawl across it fully dressed, save for her discarded jacket and boots. Natasha pulled the comforter up over the barely conscious girl, and hit the dimmer switch for the lamp on the nightstand.

"Sleep well," she murmured. "I'll be downstairs with Sam and Clint for a little while, but I'll be back soon. I'll be in the room right next door, so, if you need anything, just call out."

"Okay," Wanda mumbled, and in moments, she was fast asleep again. Natasha watched her for a moment, then left a kiss on Wanda's forehead before straightening up. She turned to see both men staring at her in dumbfounded amazement.

"What are you two looking at?" she demanded.

"Not a thing," Sam protested innocently, and gestured towards the door. "Ready for a beer?"

"Am I ever," Natasha sighed. "Lead the way."

* * *

A few minutes later, the three friends had settled themselves into chairs in the large kitchen and dining area on the second floor. The space was almost a carbon copy of the kitchen in the old HQ at Stark Tower, so it was easy enough to find everything they needed; and they quickly tucked into a late and hastily improvised meal of sandwiches, vegetable slices and beers.

"The conference room is on this same floor, other end of the hallway," Sam advised them. "Cap would like to meet with all of us there at 08:00 tomorrow."

"Steve and Maria aren't here?"

"They're in New York. Meeting some ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, folks who might be joining us here as support staff. Cap said they'd be back late."

"So, the Avengers are still a going concern, then," Natasha breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, no matter what happens, the structure will be different," Sam said. "And this facility might not get any larger than what you already see. The original plan was to have the Avengers, S.H.I.E.L.D. and the US military all sharing the site. But S.H.I.E.L.D.'s gone, and the military has pulled out, for now. So it's basically just us, with whatever funding the Starks can provide."

"Who's in?"

"You, me, Cap, Maria..." Sam glanced questioningly over at Clint.

"I'm going part-time," Clint confessed. Seeing Natasha was about to object, he raised a hand in a placating gesture. "Hey, when the aliens invade, I definitely want you guys to call me. But right now I have a chance to do some full-time dad things. Soccer practice. Music recitals. You know. Important stuff. As much as possible, I don't want to miss that."

"No one's judging, if you're playing the dad card," Sam assured him. "You have a family. They should come first."

"You will come hang out with us now and then, right?" Natasha asked.

"Oh, sure," Clint nodded. "You guys are like my adopted family. I have obligations to you, too. I'll be around. Just not every day."

"What about Tony?"

"Scuttlebutt is, he wants out," Sam confided. "But he's still willing to be 'the money', which is good news for us. We talked to Rhodey about suiting up, but he's still with the DoD, and they don't want to loan him out to anybody, especially not to a group like ours."

Natasha frowned. "Why not?"

"The Avengers aren't officially part of the US military, or any part of the US government, for that matter. We were going to have a setup with the military here, but after Sokovia, they backed out. We don't answer to any one nation. That makes every nation a little nervous."

"What about Wanda?"

"Wanda's in. Cap thinks she's far too valuable to let anyone just throw her into a jail cell."

"Assuming they could somehow manage to keep her there," Clint scoffed.

"Declaring her an Avenger is the quickest and surest way to give her protected legal status. But we need to train her, so she knows how to work with us in the field." Sam gave Natasha a quick glance. "Cap's asked me to be her drill instructor - if you're cool with that."

"I trust you completely, Sam." Natasha sighed with relief. "And Vision?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't think Cap has made that decision yet."

"He could be a big help to us."

"I'm not arguing that. You guys know better than me what he did in Sokovia. But after Ultron, everyone's gonna wonder - is the Vision a JARVIS on steroids? Or could he go rogue, too?"

There was an uncomfortable, awkward silence around the table.

"Any word on Banner?" Clint asked, after some time had passed.

"We could look for him," Natasha sighed sadly. "But, wherever he is, I'm sure he doesn't want to be found."

"Doesn't mean we shouldn't try. He could be in trouble, Nat. He might need us."

Natasha shook her head sadly. "He can't kill himself, if that's what you're suggesting. He's already tried that. He -"

She stopped abruptly, as unwanted tears began spilling down her cheeks. "Oh, God damn it," she swore irritably, wiping the tears away. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me lately."

"What's wrong is, we're all tired and beat up," Clint suggested gently. "So let's call it a night, get some kip, and face tomorrow fresh. There are lots of changes going on. But the news isn't all bad for us. Let's not borrow trouble, huh?"

"Yeah, you're right," Natasha agreed, swigging down the last of her beer. Despite having taken a short nap in the car, she could feel that her body was almost pleading with her to go down for an extended period.

 _Remember what you always tell Wanda,_ she thought to herself. _Listen to your body when it's talking to you. Especially when it's screaming. Set the example!_

"All right, boys, I'm going to crash," she announced, getting up from the table. "Thanks for the welcome, Sam. Do you mind if I leave you boys to clean up?"

"We got it covered," Sam promised her.

"Great. In that case, I'll see you both in the conference room tomorrow morning, and we'll see where we go from there."

"Sounds good," Sam nodded. "Sleep well."

"Good night, Nat," Clint added.

By some miracle, Natasha managed to find her way back to the suite. Wanda was still sleeping soundly, and didn't stir when Natasha opened up the door between the two suites. Natasha lugged her overnight case into the other room, but paused in the doorway for a long moment, watching Wanda as she slept.

 _You were so worried that you destroyed the Avengers,_ Natasha thought, intending her words for Wanda, but not speaking them aloud. _The truth is, you might just be the future of the team._

Leaving the door between the rooms slightly ajar, Natasha returned to her own suite, quickly undressed and gratefully slid under the blankets. Barely a minute had passed before she too was fast asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Natasha awoke early, and despite finding herself in an unfamiliar bed, she felt wonderfully refreshed. She was completely alert from the moment her eyes opened, there were no morning cobwebs to be cleared away. She sat up in the bed and looked around. The sun was just beginning to rise, and she could tell that her patio balcony would have a spectacular view of the forest. Through the partially opened door connecting their rooms, Natasha also saw that all the lights were on in Wanda's suite. She slipped from the bed, shrugged herself into a bathrobe, and poked her head through the doorway.

Wanda was already awake, showered and fully dressed. She was wearing the nicest of the outfits that Natasha had purchased for her, and had carefully done up her hair. She was standing at the window of her own balcony, watching the sun rise. Realizing she herself was being watched, she looked up with a shy smile.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," Natasha returned the greeting, stepping into the room.

"I'm glad you're awake. I wanted to come in, but I didn't want to disturb you."

"You look... great," Natasha murmured in admiration. "That outfit really suits you."

"Thank you. And thank you for choosing it for me." Wanda also seemed to be refreshed and in much better spirits. "I thought I would probably be meeting the rest of the team today. I wanted to look presentable."

"How long have you been up?"

"About an hour."

"How hungry are you?"

Wanda made a face. "I'm _starving,"_ she confessed.

"You should be, you missed supper last night." Natasha gave her a friendly grin. "If you can wait ten minutes, I'll shower and dress, and we'll go down to the kitchen together."

"In ten _minutes?"_ Wanda seemed confused.

"I'm a very fast dresser," Natasha assured her.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Natasha reappeared in Wanda's room, bathed, dressed and immaculately coiffed. Wanda's jaw fairly dropped in amazement.

"How do you _do_ that?" she demanded.

"Do what?"

"You look like you spent all morning in a salon."

Natasha grinned. "I've spent most of my life on the road, so I've picked up a few tricks. I can teach you, if you like."

"I would."

"Ready for breakfast?"

"Yes, please!"

As the stepped out of the suite together, Wanda looked down the long hallway in confusion.

"Are we in a hotel?" she asked.

"Seems like it, doesn't it?" Natasha smiled. "No, this is just the residence wing of the new HQ. I haven't really looked around yet, but I know the kitchen's somewhere on the second floor. I was there last night, just not exactly sure where. Come on. We'll find it."

They found the elevator, and after a few moments of searching on the second floor, strolled into the oversized kitchen. Sam Wilson was already working over the stovetop as they entered, and the tantalizing smell of roasting potatoes and fresh brewed coffee welcomed them.

"Oh, my. Sam, that smells wonderful," Natasha murmured.

Sam's face broke out in a wide grin as he saw the women enter. "Hey, perfect timing," he declared. "I was just about to buzz you on the intercom to see if you're awake."

"You're making breakfast for us?"

"I'm making breakfast for _me_ , mainly, but I can have plates ready for both of you in five minutes. If you don't mind scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, fruit and coffee, that is."

"You're our savior," Natasha sighed happily.

"Coffee's in the urn over there," Sam pointed to a nearby table. He grinned at Wanda. "Hi, Wanda. Welcome to the Avengers HQ. I'm Sam Wilson. We actually met last night, but I'm not sure if you remember that."

"Barely," Wanda admitted. "It's nice to meet you, Sam."

"Grab a seat anywhere, in a couple of minutes I'll have a batch of eggs so fresh they'll talk back to you."

"You made the coffee, too?" Natasha asked, filling a cup.

"Maria did, about an hour ago."

"What time did she and Steve get back last night?"

"About midnight. Not too late."

"Is Maria joining us this morning?"

"No. Both she and Cap were up before six."

"Don't they sleep?" Wanda wondered aloud.

Sam grinned. "First thing you'll notice about Maria is, she's always the first one up and the last one down. How she does it, I'll never know."

"Maybe it's the coffee. Have you seen Clint this morning?" Natasha asked.

"He said he'd probably wander by in a few minutes and grab a bagel, or something." He glanced at Wanda. "By the way, Wanda, there's a team meeting at eight, you'll want to be there."

Wanda glanced over at Natasha. "Is that okay?" she asked apprehensively. "Am I allowed to listen?"

"You're a member of the team," Sam declared. "And all team members are supposed to be there."

Natasha smiled at Wanda's astonishment. "Did you think I was joking, when I said you were going to be part of the team?"

"No, it's not that, I -" Wanda floundered for a moment. "I'm not used to thinking of myself as an Avenger," she admitted.

"Yeah. You'll get over that," Sam said simply.

A few minutes later, the three friends sat down together to share the breakfast Sam had prepared. Wanda practically devoured the food on her plate, and Natasha could only smile with relief. Good appetite signaled a return to good health. Clint Barton joined them shortly thereafter, greeting them all warmly and helping himself to last of the potatoes Sam had left in the skillet.

Wanda said little, but she found herself feeling comfortable sitting at the table with these people who were about to become her teammates, and perhaps even her friends. She listened to the good-natured banter between them, although they were discussing nothing of any real importance - obviously that was coming in the formal meeting later that morning. The highlight was Clint passing around his personal phone so everyone could see the new pictures of his children.

None of that camaraderie kept the butterflies from fluttering in Wanda's stomach when she entered the conference room a short time later. Here teammates were not wearing their combat uniforms - they were all less formally dressed in civilian clothing - but taking a seat at a long table with men and women who were real-life heroes made Wanda feel positively giddy.

Steve Rogers, who for the moment remained standing, welcomed them all with a cordial smile. "I'd like to thank you all for showing up this morning," he began. "As you know, I'm not big on meetings. But there have been a lot of changes happening for us recently, and there are more changes to come. I thought it might be a good idea if we all sat down together and took stock. First of all, I'd like to introduce the newest members of our team, Sam Wilson and Wanda Maximoff. Sam, Wanda, welcome. We're happy to have you with us."

"Hear, hear," Clint seconded, and there was an appreciative murmur around the table.

Steve took his seat. "For the foreseeable future, the people sitting at this table _are_ the Avengers. In order to make things easier for us legally, Tony has requested a leave of absence from the team. The Stark Foundation will continue to support us financially. As of today, we are 'lights on' at this facility, and we'll use this as our base of operations going forward. I know the site isn't what we were originally expecting, but this main building is completed, and it's ready for use. Two of Pepper Stark's personal staff are already on site to help support us. We'll have several former members of S.H.I.E.L.D. also joining us here shortly, in various support roles. But the people at this table will be our field agents, and the public face of the team."

Steve paused, trying to hold back a sigh couldn't quite suppress. "As you know, after Sokovia, there has been increasing international pressure to either have this team disbanded, or, to create some sort of international watchdog group that would have oversight authority over us. None of those things have actually happened yet, but they're in the air. I don't expect any of you to act any differently. When we're in the field, we do what we have to, to keep people safe. But our enemies know if they can make us look bad in the eyes of the world, they make us vulnerable. As much as we can, we'll keep our operations covert. But our mission still stands. When people are facing threats that local authorities can't handle, whether it's HYDRA or the Chitauri or whatever, we will be the response team that steps in."

Steve smiled ruefully. "I know what you're all thinking. We have nowhere near the firepower we used to. Without Thor, Doctor Banner or Tony Stark, a lot of our muscle has suddenly gone missing. But we still have here at this table a group of professionals with skill sets that no one else has. And you've all indicated that you want to be part of the team going forward. We'll have to adjust to being more of a surgical strike team, rather than a blunt instrument." Steve paused. "I know when Fury first put this team together, we hadn't settled on any sort of formal hierarchy or structure. I certainly don't want to start by imposing a whole set of arbitrary rules and regulations. But unless anyone objects, I will take the role as team leader in the field. Your orders will come from me. Natasha will be my second in command. Maria will continue in her role as our XO from this base, although, she will be joining us in the field from time to time, when the need arises."

"That will be mostly when it's time for me to ride in and rescue your asses," Maria deadpanned.

Steve bit his lip, trying to hold back a grin he couldn't quite suppress. "You should also be aware, I'm considering having the Vision join us here as well. I know some of you have reservations about him. If I'm being honest, I share those concerns. I intend to vet him very carefully. But I think his inclusion is ultimately a risk worth taking. Does anyone disagree?"

There were a few murmurs and shakes of the head around the table.

"Good. For the time being, Maria and I will be living and working out of this location. None of the rest of you need to be here, unless the team is activated. Wanda, until your legal status is cleared up, I'm going to request you stay here, as well."

"I have nowhere else to go," Wanda answered in all honesty.

"Cap, unless you have plans to take us back into the field right away, I thought I'd start by giving our new arrivals the grand tour of the base," Sam volunteered. "And right after that, Barton and I would like to start working with Wanda in the training center."

"You read my mind, Sam, thank you. Wanda, I've asked Sam to be your drill instructor for the next few weeks," Steve continued. "After what we saw in Sokovia, your skills and powers are not in question. But we want you to become more familiar with the team, and learn how to work in sync with everyone. You'll get individual training from each of us, but Sam will be the person in charge of putting together a formal training program for you. For now, you'll take your orders from him, except when we're in the field."

"Thank you. I want you guys to teach me everything," Wanda said, looking around the table.

"If nobody minds, I'll hang out here for a few days," Clint said. "Help Wanda get settled in, and be an extra pair of hands for any training exercises Sam has lined up for her."

"What if I object?" Natasha joked.

"Then you'll have to put up with me anyway," Clint shot back.

"That will be a big help," Steve chuckled. "Thanks, Barton."

"Steve, unless you need me here, I'm going to head back to New York after Sam gives us the tour," Natasha added. "I want to base myself here too, at least for now. So I want to run by my apartment, pick up a few things. Also, to get some more outfits for Wanda. She has kind of a limited wardrobe at the moment."

"How long do you expect to be gone?"

"No more than a day. If I can get out of here within the hour, I should be back by late tonight."

"I was hoping you'd decide to stay here," Steve admitted. "Thanks, Natasha. If no one else has any urgent matters to bring up, I'd like to speak to Wanda alone for a few minutes, please."

The other four team members got up from the table. Before leaving, Natasha leaned over beside Wanda, clasping her hand. "If I don't see you tonight, I'll check on you first thing in the morning," she murmured quietly in Wanda's ear.

The girl looked up at her gratefully. "I'll miss you. Come back soon."

"I will, I promise. I'll just pick up some necessaries for today. When I get back, we'll sit down and put together a proper list of all the outfits you'd like to wear."

"Thank you."

Natasha hesitated for a moment, then squeezed Wanda's hand tightly, and quickly left the room.

When they were alone, Steve smiled somberly. "You and Natasha seem to be getting along very well."

"I couldn't do this without her," Wanda answered honestly.

"Wanda, there's something I need to ask you, and I didn't want to put you on the spot in front of the entire team."

Wanda shrugged nervously. "What do you need to know?"

Steve regarded her soberly for a long moment before speaking. "I know that you and Tony Stark have some history between you, a lot of things that are still unresolved," he said quietly. "And while Tony may not be part of the team for the time being, he's still part of our circle, and you'd be expected to interact with him from time to time. I need to know if this is going to be a problem for you."

Wanda cast her eyes down at the tabletop. Steve let her process his comments for a few moments in silence.

"Wanda, I need an answer," he prodded gently.

Wanda let out a ragged sigh. "I do not like Tony Stark," she admitted after a long pause.

"I'm not asking if you like him. I need to know if you can work alongside him, regardless of how you feel about him."

"Can he?"

"I'm not asking Tony right now. I'm asking _you."_

Wanda sighed again, and slumped back in her chair.

"I can," she said grudgingly.

"Are you sure? You don't seem very sure."

"No," Wanda admitted finally. She crumpled in her seat.

Steve did his best to conceal his dismay. "I know you're angry. But Tony Stark didn't kill your family."

"No," Wanda agreed brokenly. "I did that."

Steve's eyes widened in surprise; this was not the response he had expected. " _You_ did?"

"Tony Stark would never have created Ultron, if it wasn't for me," Wanda said, in a completely dead tone of voice. "When I attacked Stark, I wanted to destroy him. I wanted his fear to consume him. I dug a grave for Tony Stark. And then I put my brother's body into that grave instead."

A single fat tear spilled down Wanda's cheek, and splashed soundlessly on the tabletop.

"I thought Tony Stark was my enemy. He is not my enemy. It turns out..." she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "It turns out I am my own worst enemy. I lashed out at Stark because I hated him. And now Pietro is dead. Because of what I did. Because of me."

Steve digested those remarks in solemn silence for several moments.

"You realize, based on what you're telling me, I can't possibly take you into the field with the rest of the team," he said quietly.

"I know." Wanda kept her face turned away, blinking back tears.

"I still think there's a place for you here, Wanda. So does Natasha. But this is something you need to get past, before that can happen."

Wanda turned back to Steve, tears streaming down her face. "Please do not send me away."

"We won't do that."

"I can't even look at myself in a mirror. All I see is a monster," Wanda blubbered.

"Wanda, listen to me. You have an incredible gift, a power to help others that no one else has," Steve said. "But you're also still in shock over your brother's death. You need to give yourself proper time to grieve. And later, when the time is right, you need to make peace with Tony Stark. If you want to be part of the team, then those are the terms."

Wanda sat up, let out a ragged sigh, and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Natasha said... she would not give up on me," Wanda said in a choked voice, barely able to get the words out. "I hate myself. But I will not give up on myself. Don't give up on me," she pleaded.

"We won't. I promise you that." Steve sighed sadly. "There is one other thing we can do."

Wanda looked up at him expectantly.

"We can hold a memorial service for your brother."

"Really?"

"Pietro gave his life in battle, protecting others. He's an Avenger, every bit as much as you are. And we've had no opportunity to acknowledge what he sacrificed for us. It's the right thing to do."

"I would like that," Wanda managed a weak smile, tears still spilling down her cheeks. "I would like that very much."

Steve gave Wanda a reassuring smile. "Wanda... I didn't ask you about Tony Stark so I'd have an excuse to kick you off the team. I asked because I want to _keep_ you on the team. The best way to deal with problems is to acknowledge them, then deal with them honestly. You've taken the first step." He sighed. "Look... I know it's not easy, viewing our own actions objectively, then dealing with the consequences. We _all_ struggle with it, believe me. But I'd like to suggest, not everything that happened was entirely your fault. Especially not your brother's death. Don't beat yourself up with guilt, Wanda."

"Who should I blame, then, if not me?"

Steve mulled over his response carefully. "You've met Sam Wilson, haven't you?"

Wanda nodded. "Yeah, last night."

"I think you should talk to him about these feelings of guilt you're having."

Wanda frowned in puzzlement. "Why Sam?"

"Because I think he can help you."

Wanda seemed genuinely confused, so Steve added, "He's not here only as your teacher, Wanda. Sam's a certified grief and stress counselor. I've seen him work miracles with some of the soldiers at the VA."

"You want me to tell Sam about this?" Wanda asked dubiously.

"At some point, you're going to need to talk to someone. And Sam is very easy to talk to."

Wanda nodded thoughtfully. "I like Sam..."

"You can talk to any of us, of course. But as your commanding officer, my recommendation is, start with Sam. He knows how to listen." Steve smiled ruefully. "And what to say afterwards. A lot of times, that's the harder part."

Seeing that Wanda was still struggling with the suggestion, he added gently, "And this would be the part about not giving up on yourself."

Wanda managed a weak smile. "Okay."

"And going forward, if you're having any difficulties, with this or anything else, I expect you to tell me. I can't help you if I don't know there's a problem."

Wanda bobbed her head. "I understand."

Steve's smile warmed. "Good. Natasha and I both see in you someone who could one day be the anchor for this team. You have that kind of potential."

"Oh, I _want_ to be that person," Wanda blurted out.

"And we're going to do everything we can, to help you get there. Very frankly, we _need_ you, Wanda. You bring something to the table nobody else does. When we face the heavy hitters, you have the kind of raw power we need, to keep the team on the playing field. So we're going to fight for you. As long as you keep fighting, too."

"I will," Wanda vowed.

"Good." Steve relaxed somewhat. "Unless you have something else you'd like to say, we'll leave the matter there for now."

"I don't."

"Do you have any questions for me?"

"Not right now."

"Will you promise to come see me, or Natasha, or Sam, if you're ever having issues that could affect your work with the team?"

Wanda bobbed her head again, more emphatically. "Yes, I promise."

"All right, then. Do you have any workout clothes here with you?"

"Yes, Natasha brought some for me."

"Why don't you go back to your room, and get changed. I'll ask Sam to stop by in about twenty minutes and take you down to the training center. We'll get you started on your new path."

"Okay." Wanda rose to go.

"Wanda." Steve called after her, and Wanda paused in the doorway. "What we said in here, it's just between us. It won't be shared with the rest of the team."

Wanda smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Captain."

Steve's smile warmed. "In that case, you're dismissed, Avenger."

Wanda returned the smile. "Yes, sir." Then she hurried away.

* * *

Downstairs in the lobby, Sam turned to Clint and Natasha.

"Looks like Cap and Wanda are gonna be a few minutes," he conceded. "You guys want to put off the tour, or go ahead and start without 'em?"

"Can I take a rain check?" Natasha pleaded. "If I get on the road now, I can be back here before it's tomorrow."

Sam shrugged. "Sure, you're not beholden to me. Go do what you need to do."

"In the meantime, Sam and I will start working on the perfect training exercise for our newest team member," Clint grinned. "A test of acuity, coordination, reaction times, critical and strategic thinking while under adverse situations..."

Natasha's face fell. "No. NO," she exclaimed in dismay. "Tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."

"Of course I am. Paintball is the _perfect_ way to test how Wanda reacts under fire."

"Barton, what part of 'no' coming from my lips did you _not_ hear?" Natasha demanded.

"Come on, Nat. Wanda took on an entire army of sentient killer robots, and she's still standing. I think she can handle a few rounds of paintball."

"Listen to me, you two," Natasha scolded. "If I catch either of you paintballing Wanda, you will answer to me. And you _won't_ like it. Come up with something else. Are we clear?"

"We're clear," Clint answered meekly.

"Sam, Clint, I _mean_ it. You leave Wanda alone. Test her all you want in the training center. But do _not_ ambush her with your stupid macho games, or I will make sure you regret it."

"We promise. No ambush," Clint declared.

"Scout's honor," Sam added.

Natasha narrowed her eyes in a disapproving scowl. "I'm watching you, boys. You mess with Wanda, I will be your absolute worst nightmare."

"Yes, ma'am." Clint bowed his head.

"We'll take good care of her. We promise," Sam assured her.

Grunting in irritation, Natasha turned on her heel and strode angrily away. Both men exhaled nervously as she disappeared from view around the corner.

" _Wow,"_ Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"I know, right?" Clint suppressed a shudder.

"She really _meant_ that, didn't she?"

"Oh, yeah. She sure did."

"We're still paintballing the rookie, aren't we?"

"Oh, yeah. We sure are."

The two men turned and hurried away in the opposite direction, making their plans.


	9. Chapter 9

"And _this,"_ said Sam Wilson, "Is the training center."

He pushed open the wide double doors, and he and Wanda Maximoff stepped inside.

Wanda's jaw dropped in amazement. "This place is _huge!"_

"Yeah. It is," Sam agreed, taking pleasure in Wanda's reaction. "I think it was originally supposed to be an aircraft hangar. But after S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed, Stark re-purposed the space for us on the fly. No pun intended."

Sam had just finished taking Wanda on a brief tour of the new facility, but had intentionally saved the large training area for last.

Wanda stared up at the ceiling far above them. "How - how big is...?"

"The training center is the same height as the rest of the main building, so, a little over four stories," Sam told her. "Floor dimensions are roughly sixty meters by a hundred and ten meters." He pointed off to their left, towards another pair of double doors. "The gym is through there, with all the standard weight training and cardio equipment. We'll be spending a lot of time in there, too. Natasha told me, ahh, your conditioning needs a little work."

Wanda appeared not to have heard. She was still gaping at the cavernous space.

"Why do we need something so large?" she asked, in complete bewilderment.

"Mostly, so we can run simulation drills. We can put up all kinds of temporary constructs in here for training purposes. Plus, when half your team is capable of flight, sometimes it helps to have some extra space. Of course, if we need a really big space, there's the whole clearing to the north of the building. You _can_ fly, right?"

"I don't know if you'd call it flying," Wanda smiled shyly. "I can make myself float. I can sort of push myself around in any direction while in mid-air. But it's not really flying. Not like you."

"I don't fly," Sam said simply. "I've got a jet pack with wings. The suit flies. Without it, I just sort of plummet." He made a low whistle and wagged his finger in a circular, descending motion.

Wanda giggled at his joke. "Well... you know what I mean."

"Barton and I want to set up some simulation drills for you here in this space. But before we can do that, we need to get a baseline of your powers. You know, an overview of the things you can do."

Wanda's face blanched. "Please don't ask me to explain," she pleaded. "I barely know how to make my powers work for me. I couldn't even begin to describe them for somebody else."

"You don't need to worry there," Sam assured her. "We'll run you through a few exercises this afternoon, just so we can get a sense of where to start. Let's start with flying. Do you think you could reach the ceiling in here, using your powers?"

Wanda glanced upward. "I think so," she nodded. "Yeah."

"Why don't you try it, then. Just float yourself up so you can touch one of the girders, one of those steel beams you see up there, then come back down."

"Okay."

Wanda stepped a couple of paces away from Sam, and moved into the Tadasana or 'mountain' stance that Natasha had taught her. After taking a couple of cleansing breaths, she lifted her arms slowly away from her sides, hands and fingers spread wide, palms facing out and downward. The entire lower half of her body began to literally glow with energy - a muted, dull red glow that seemed to emanate from somewhere inside her. The palms of her hands were glowing bright, fiery red. Slowly, her body rose up off the floor, and she began to soar upwards. The glow followed after her, a bright ruby-red contrail of energy extending from her legs and feet.

Sam had heard about Wanda's abilities, but this was the first time he'd actually seen her use them. Now it was his turn to have his jaw drop.

"Damn," he muttered softly.

Wanda sailed upwards with no apparent difficulty all the way to the roof, placed her hand on one of the beams, and started back down. She landed gracefully about a foot from where she'd started. Sam was still staring at her in astonishment.

"Please don't be freaked out," Wanda begged.

"I'm not," Sam said. "Well, I am. A little," he admitted. "Wanda, that was amazing."

Wanda smiled bashfully. "It isn't, not really."

"Girl, you just floated up to the damn ceiling, and floated back down, under your own power. Trust me. That falls into the amazing category." With an effort, Sam tried to refocus himself on the task at hand. "That took, what, about two minutes? There and back?"

"I wasn't timing myself," Wanda pointed out.

"Can you fly faster than that?"

"I'm not sure," Wanda said uncertainly. "I barely know how to get myself into the air as it is."

"Yeah, but you're pushing yourself, propelling yourself, using your energy," Sam said. "Maybe we can find a way for you to focus your energy, so you're capable of some real speed."

"It's not really _my_ energy," Wanda told him. "I know it seems like the power comes from me, but it doesn't. I'm just tapping into the energy that's all around me. In the air. The earth. The water."

"And it comes out as fire," Sam said admiringly.

"Yeah. Sort of," Wanda said shyly. She wasn't used to being the center of attention, and it was making her feel self-conscious.

"How long can you stay in the air?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

"What's the longest you've ever kept yourself in flight, or at least, with your feet not touching the ground?"

"Actually, I think what I did just now was the longest I've ever done that."

"Did that make you feel tired at all? Could you do it for longer periods?"

"I think so, but I don't know for how long."

"Why don't you try it," Sam suggested. "Just lift yourself, say, a meter off the ground. Hold yourself there for as long as you can. Don't strain too hard," he added quickly. "If you get uncomfortable, stop. I just want to get a sense of what your limits are."

Wanda nodded, resumed her starting stance, and raised herself up about a foot and a half from the floor. "Will this do?"

"That's fine. We're not going for height here. Just see how long you can hold it. Let me know if you feel like your muscles are straining, or anything like that."

"Should I try 'walking' around?" Wanda asked.

"No, not right now. Just float."

"We could be here for hours," Wanda grinned at him.

"You seriously think you could stay suspended that long?" Sam was obviously impressed.

"I'm just kidding, Sam, I really have no idea."

"You're carrying on a conversation without any shortness of breath," Sam noted. "So, when you use your power, it's not placing any stress on your cardiovascular system? Is your heart pumping? Are you drawing deeper breaths?"

"A little bit, but it's not like when I'm running. My heart rate is elevated a little. Not bad, though."

"Let me know if you notice any change."

"Okay." There was a brief pause, and Wanda felt uncomfortable with the silence. "So, when did you first meet Natasha?"

"Let's stay focused on your test," Sam suggested.

"I am. You want to see if using my powers puts stress on my heart or lungs, right? So, let's see if I can hold a conversation without getting short of breath. When did you meet her?"

"I had just met Cap, actually," Sam answered. "I was out for a morning run, and he blew by me like five or six times in the space of fifteen minutes. Dude was lapping me. We talked, introduced ourselves. Tasha came and picked him up in some really nice sports car."

"How long ago was this?"

"Damn, I can't remember dates, but it was when that whole Winter Soldier mess happened. When S.H.I.E.L.D. went under."

"Then... you've _seen_ him," Wanda's eyes went wide. "You've seen the Winter Soldier."

"Oh, hell, yeah, I have."

"And you're still alive?" Wanda was incredulous.

"I was lucky. He's not a dude you want to mess with." Sam suppressed a shudder. "Tasha's tangled with him a couple of times. She's never stopped him. But, he never stopped her, either."

"So, you've fought with Natasha. I mean, alongside her."

"Yeah. I have."

"Tell me about her," Wanda pleaded.

Sam smiled. "She's as amazing as you are," he assured her. "In her own ways. But I think you already have a sense of how amazing she really is. One thing I can tell you, you are one incredibly lucky young lady, that someone like Natasha Romanoff wants to train you personally. If you want my advice, whenever you're with her, be a sponge."

"A sponge?" Wanda giggled.

"I mean it. Whatever she's teaching you, soak it up. You won't find many role models better than the Black Widow. Especially if you expect to go into the field with us one day."

"Why do they call her the Black Widow?"

"Ahh, that was just some field alias she used on an undercover op years ago. Name kinda stuck, and she's been using it ever since. You know, we're going to need a field alias for you, too."

"You mean, a superhero name?" Wanda giggled again.

"The term is field alias," Sam grunted. "When you're out in the field, you almost never use real names. You have to use code names. We'll need to think of one for you. How you doing?"

"I'm starting to feel some strain, but not bad yet."

"Where? Muscles, heart, lungs, where?"

"My heart is pumping harder. And I need to take deeper breaths, like I was walking at a brisk pace."

"If you feel any real discomfort, stop immediately."

"I will," Wanda promised.

"What else can you do? Cap said something about... reading minds?"

"Oh, sure, I can do that."

Sam's jaw dropped again. "Seriously."

"All girls can read all boys' minds. We _always_ know what you're thinking." Wanda gave him a wicked grin.

"Don't you mess with me, rookie," Sam growled.

Wanda made a face. "No, I can't read your mind, Sam. I can plant suggestions in your mind, but I'm not a mind reader or mind controller. I can't actually make you do anything you don't want to do."

"But you _can_ put thoughts in peoples' heads?"

"It's not that weird, Sam. If I told you not to think about squirrels, what's the first thing you'd think about?"

"Squirrels."

"See? Anybody can do that. The only difference is, my power can... well, amplify the suggestion. Allow your own mind to give it larger context. Some people say it's like having a waking dream."

"Or a hallucination?"

"Yeah. I guess." Wanda grimaced slightly. "Sam, I'm sorry, I need to stop now."

"It's okay, Wanda. Go ahead and release."

Wanda dropped quickly to the floor and sighed with relief. "I was beginning to feel a strain, there. Heart's pumping pretty good now."

"Still, that's impressive. You held yourself aloft for several minutes." Sam looked thoughtful. "Can you use the power to lift things other than yourself? For example, could you carry a person?"

"Oh, sure, I can lift all kinds of stuff with my power. I don't have any real control over it, though. And I don't think I've ever tried to lift anything as heavy as a person."

"Hold that thought."

Sam walked over to the wall, and pressed a button on a control panel. The wall slid open to reveal a recessed compartment, and inside was one of the Iron Legion drones.

Wanda frowned in puzzlement. "That's not Iron Man's suit... is it?"

"No. But you're not far off. This is a drone unit. It's deactivated, so basically it's just a suit of armor. It's a little heavier than an adult person." Sam regarded his new recruit thoughtfully. "Barton tells me you were punching holes in Ultron's drones. Ripping them to pieces."

"Sure, that part's easy. Just blasting away is no problem. Trying to do things with control... that's what's hard."

"So, you can focus your energy so it has mass and density, like a projectile?"

"Well... it's more like a flame thrower than a bullet."

"Try lifting the drone," Sam suggested. "Bring it out of its receptacle, set it anywhere on the floor."

Wanda looked at drone with a dubious expression on her face. "I'm not sure if I can do that," she said uncertainly.

"Just try it," Sam urged.

Wanda regarded the drone thoughtfully, examining it from all the angles that she could see. Then, hesitantly, she raised her hands, and once again her palms began to glow red. Sam could see that as the energy focused, not only did Wanda's skin glow, but the iris of her eyes turned bright red - even her reddish-brown hair suddenly had bright red glowing highlights. She looked undeniably supernatural. Sam drew in a sharp breath of amazement.

Carefully, Wanda extended her bands of energy until they roughly encircled the drone, then she made a gentle sweeping motion with her arms, as if attempting to drag the drone from its space. The metal creaked, and there was a harsh grinding sound as the drone slid forward about a foot across the floor. As Wanda continued to tug with her energy bands, the suit began to wobble unsteadily; then it suddenly pitched forward, and crashed to the floor with a loud metallic clang.

"Sorry," Wanda apologized. "Sorry. Like I said. I can kind of move things. Controlling the movement is really hard."

"Then that's one of the things we'll be sure to work on," Sam nodded. "Control like that will be very useful for you." He actually seemed quite pleased. "What else can you do with your energy? Could you, for instance, make a shield?"

"You mean, something that could deflect bullets?"

"Yeah."

"I've made shields before," Wanda allowed. "But I'm about as good at making those as I am at moving things. And I've never tried to protect myself from something like gunfire. Shields are hard."

"I bet they are," Sam agreed. "But something very worthwhile."

"Yeah..."

"All right, Wanda, I've seen enough for now. Here's how this is going to work. Tomorrow morning, and every morning after that, you and I will begin our day with a four kilometer run -"

"Four _kilometers?!"_ Wanda cried in dismay.

"Followed by, a program of calisthenics, like what I took when I first went to the service. We'll mix that up a little, get some strength training in there too. We need to build up your endurance, Wanda. Trust me. You're gonna need it."

Wanda sighed. _After all,_ she thought to herself, _you did ask for help._ "Yes, sir."

"You and I will have breakfast in the kitchen after that. Then, your day really begins. In this room, you and me, every day, and Clint and Natasha will be working with you, too. And when we've worn you down to the point you can't move, then... we'll bring Cap in to work with you." Sam's eyes narrowed. "Do you know CPR?"

Wanda shook her head slowly.

"Okay. We'll make sure that gets covered this week. Knowing CPR is a mission critical for every team member. For now, you're dismissed. Take advantage of your down time this afternoon, Wanda. You won't have much, if any, after today."

"Sam... thank you. I know you'll be giving up a big chunk of your time to work with me. I want you to know, I appreciate everything you're doing to help me."

"If I'm doing my job right, you'll be cursing me, not thanking me," Sam cautioned.

"Oh, I'll scream and shout. Lots," Wanda promised him. "It won't mean I'm not grateful."

Sam gave her a somber smile. "Cap asked me to turn you into an Avenger," he said quietly. "That means, it's my job to make sure when we _do_ take you into the field, you don't die. I'm not doing this for my health, Wanda. I'm doing it for yours."

"I understand."

"Now, go on, get out of here. Barton and I have a lot of work to do. And _no_ peeking," he added sternly. "We'll go over the details of the simulation exercise tomorrow before we begin."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

"While I'm training, am I supposed to call you sir, or by some rank, or...?"

"No. I'm just Sam when I'm your teacher. I _do_ expect you to follow every order I give you, though."

"What time should I meet you tomorrow?"

"Oh-five-hundred. In the lobby."

"I'll be there," Wanda promised, and turned to leave. She paused in the doorway. "Captain America was right," she said thoughtfully.

Sam frowned, not understanding. "Right about what?"

"You're really easy to talk to." She gave him a warm, friendly smile. "See you tomorrow, Sam."

After Wanda had left the training center, Sam touched the intercom on the wall.

"Barton? Get your ass down here. You and I have a lot of work to do."

"On my way," Clint responded.

Sam looked back out over the wide, empty space, slowly shaking his head. "Yes, sir," he murmured to himself. "A whole _lot_ of work to do."


	10. Chapter 10

Wanda decided she did not like having time to herself. With nothing to do, and nowhere to go, her mind kept wandering back to unpleasant memories she preferred not to revisit. After a desultory workout in the gym, she returned to her own room, and flopped down on the bed with a heavy sigh. She stared disconsolately at the open door that led from her room to Natasha's. Wanda knew that Natasha had gone back to New York in part for Wanda's benefit - but they had been together constantly since leaving Sokovia, and without Natasha's calming influence, Wanda felt very alone and very vulnerable. She felt her new friend's absence keenly. Without realizing it, she curled herself up in a tight little ball on the bed, crying softly; and after a few moments, fell sound asleep.

It was hunger that awoke Wanda several hours later. Her body had stiffened in her abnormal sleeping position, and she uncurled herself gingerly, stretching out her limbs, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She had no idea what the rules of the compound were concerning meals, but it was now late afternoon, and she'd had nothing since breakfast. She wandered into her private bathroom, splashed cold water on her face from the sink, regarding her own reflection in the mirror. Wanda seldom took note of her own appearance, but now she was curious. She hardly felt like she knew herself any more, and she was even more disquieted to sense that she really didn't know the young woman who was staring back at her. Who was she? What did she really want? And what was she going to do now?

She returned to the main room a few minutes later, changed into the nicer outfit she'd worn earlier that morning. She didn't want to prowl the kitchen wearing her sweaty workout clothes. She was just about to leave when the intercom chimed.

"Hey, Wanda, it's Maria Hill. I thought since Natasha's still in New York, you might want some company for dinner. Would you like to join me in the dining room in twenty minutes?"

That was a kindness Wanda didn't expect. Realizing she didn't actually know how to work the intercom, she pressed what she hoped what the response button.

"Yes, thank you. I would like that very much."

"Great. See you there."

Wanda crumpled on the bed. Every one of these people was so kind to her - in the subtlest, simplest of gestures - and she had wanted so badly to destroy them all, without really knowing anything about any of them. How could she ever possibly find a place here, amongst these good people? What could she ever say or do, to be worthy of their trust? To say nothing of repaying their kindness, or at the very least, expressing gratitude for it. While in Strucker's 'care', she had simply done whatever was expected of her. No one save her brother ever asked her how she felt, or showed her the least courtesy or consideration, beyond being the means to an end. These Avengers... they did not imprison her, they did not abuse her, they showed no signs of wanting to take revenge against her for the harm she had done to them... what was she to make of that? Natasha had said, very openly and honestly, that they wanted to make use of Wanda's powers for their own purposes. That, at least, Wanda understood. But their ulterior motives were unconcealed, and every one of the people she'd met here treated her like a person, as if her health and well-being actually mattered. Such kindness left Wanda feeling strangely vulnerable, and uncertain how to respond. She returned to the bathroom, to make herself as presentable as possible for dinner.

When she entered the dining room a short while later, Wanda found Maria setting out two plates on the small round table nearest the kitchen. She looked up and smiled.

"It's just you and me tonight," Maria said, almost apologetically. "Cap's on a conference call to Norway. And Sam and Clint are still working down in the training center. I don't know what they're planning for you, but they're certainly making a mess. Have a seat."

Wanda shyly slid into one of the chairs. The meal that Maria had set out was a grilled chicken breast, asparagus spears, and a simple garden salad. Wanda felt her mouth watering.

"I'm not much of a cook," Maria admitted, seating herself. "I only know how to make about five things. I hope this is okay."

"This looks wonderful," Wanda assured her.

"Then dig in, please. We have some dinner rolls around here too, if you'd like any of those."

"This is fine," Wanda murmured, taking a bite of the chicken. The meat had been perfectly cooked and seasoned. She sighed softly with sheer pleasure, and Maria smiled.

"Glad you like it. You won't have to suffer with my cooking, or Sam's, after tomorrow. We'll have an entire support staff coming out here to help us maintain this facility - including a full time chef. So you're going to see a lot of new faces around here. Just so you know."

"That's all right. It will be nice to have people around."

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes; when the meal was winding down, Maria ventured a question. "So, what do you think of the room you're in? Would you like to keep it?"

"Keep it?" Wanda seemed confused. "You mean, it's mine?"

"It is, if you want to stay there. You can actually choose any open suite, but whichever one you choose is going to be your living quarters. You'll be allowed to furnish or decorate the space any way you want."

Wanda was astounded. "I - I don't know what to say," she floundered.

"The reason I'm asking is, if you like the room you're in, I'll code your palm print tonight, so that only you have access. Give you some privacy."

"Will Natasha still be next door?"

"She's planning to stay there. As far as I know."

"I've never had my own place before."

Maria smiled. "Really? Well, it's nice. To have your own private place to put your feet up, just to relax or think or do whatever... it's a real luxury."

"Yes, it is," Wanda agreed, the concept momentarily overwhelming her.

"We also need to set up a bank account for you, since you're now officially on the team."

"I'm getting _paid?"_

"Well, everyone else is, so there's no reason you shouldn't be, too. It's not much," Maria cautioned. "But it should be enough for beer or candy or whatever your particular vice is. We'll have to put it in some kind of holding account for you, though. You're not officially a citizen or even a resident of the United States, and we want to protect your financial holdings - meager as those are - from any asset seizure while there are still criminal trials still pending against you."

"Who's paying me?" Wanda asked in bewilderment.

"We used to be funded directly through S.H.I.E.L.D. Right now, though, we're all technically employees of the Stark Foundation."

Wanda slumped in her chair in utter dismay. "Tony Stark."

"Actually, no," Maria answered. "The Foundation was started by the Stark family, but Tony doesn't run it, and legally he can't touch it or have anything to do with it. The company is managed by Pepper Potts. You haven't met her yet, have you? She's great. I'll make sure to introduce you the next time she visits." Maria frowned. "Is there a problem?"

Wanda shook her head and straightened up. She didn't know the true lay of the land - not yet. It was best to withhold judgment until she had a better sense of where she was, and her true place in this new group. "No. No problem. I'm just - it's a little overwhelming."

Maria mulled that over in silence for a few moments.

"I probably shouldn't tell be telling you this," she admitted finally, "But Steve and Natasha both think the world of you. They're the reason you're here, and not sitting in a jail cell somewhere. You're among friends, Wanda. Nobody here thinks you're the enemy." She paused. "I'm sorry you've lost your family. And I know that right now it seems like the entire world has turned upside down. But hang on tight. Ride out the craziness. Everyone on this team thinks there's a place for you here, me included. And if you need help with anything, anything at all, ask. Don't be afraid. We're a team. That means, we have your back. Just like one day, you'll have ours."

Wanda blinked furiously, her eyes brimming with tears. "I - I don't know how to say thank you," she admitted.

"You want to say thank you? Then bring your 'A' game every day. Your absolute best effort. When Steve or Sam or Nat ask you to do something, give it everything you've got. Even if you think you have nothing left to give - keep pushing, as hard as you can. You have a real opportunity here - an opportunity few people ever get. Make the most of it. We're not expecting you to be perfect. All we want to see is sincere effort. You do that, everything else will take care of itself. And that will be thanks enough."

Maria saw that Wanda needed a moment to bring her roiling emotions in check, so she waited patiently with a tolerant smile. When it seemed that Wanda was calmer, she asked, "Okay, so, are we good?"

"We're good," Wanda nodded tearfully.

"We're all in?" Maria held out her hand in a welcoming gesture.

"All in," Wanda managed a smile, clasping Maria's hand and squeezing it tightly.

"All right, then. Hold that thought. I think there's two slices of fresh apple pie left in the fridge. I was planning to save them for the boys," Maria said with a wicked grin, "But I think you and I are going to steal them instead."

* * *

In the conference room, Steve Rogers turned on the wall monitor, and touched a few symbols on the control panel in front of him. A few moments later, an older man's bewildered face appeared on the screen.

"Captain America. Well. I must say, this was not a call I was expecting."

"Good morning, Doctor Selvig. Good to see you again."

Erik Selvig smiled. "I'm delighted to hear from you, Captain, but I gather this isn't a social call."

"It's not. I need your help."

"Anything I can do for you, or the Avengers, I'll be happy to assist."

"I'd like you to join us here in the States for a short time - possibly for a few weeks."

"Certainly. May I ask why?"

Steve sighed. "This is going to sound a little far-fetched, so bear with me."

"Of course."

"There is an android here - a synthetic being - whose sentience is apparently being powered by the Infinity Stone that was originally part of Loki's scepter."

Selvig's eyes went wide. "Oh, dear Lord."

"The android is known as the Vision. He appears to be a fully functioning artificial intelligence, and as near as we can determine, he's not hostile."

"This is extraordinary news, Captain."

"I'd like you to work with the Vision. Conduct some research on his capabilities. But most importantly, determine if he is as benign as he claims to be."

"You have reason to doubt him?"

"Not by his actions, no. But in my experience, nothing good has ever come from that stone."

"Ah. That is a concern I understand only too well." Selvig frowned. "But I'm no expert in AI, Captain. Surely you have other researchers in other disciplines who could conduct such assessments for you."

"We do, and I'm reaching out to them, as well. But you know more about Infinity Stones than possibly anyone else on Earth. You have actual, practical experience in their use - and their influences. You've seen them at work, know how they function. You are probably the only scientist I know who could give me a recommendation what to do with what is, for all practical purposes, a new life form."

"And what are the alternatives?"

"Let the Vision continue to function, not just as a person, but possibly as a member of the Avengers team, or... tear him apart. Rip out the stone, quarantine it somewhere, and disassemble the entire body."

"Those are... rather extreme options, Captain."

"They're not options I've considered lightly. Thor's recommendation was to keep the Vision intact. But very frankly... before I take any action... I could really use a second opinion."

"I will gladly place my services at your disposal."

Steve sighed with relief. "Thank you, Doctor. I'll have Maria Hill make arrangements to have you flown out here to our facility. Start thinking about any equipment you might need to conduct your research. We'll be in touch."

"Very good. I look forward to seeing you."

"Yeah. Me too."

Steve disconnected the call, and stared pensively at the tabletop for several moments, a thoughtful frown on his face. Then, with a sigh, he stood up, and strode purposefully from the room.


	11. Chapter 11

It was nearly eight o'clock in the evening when Wanda finally returned to her room. She looked around the space carefully for the first time, understanding this was now her private space to do with as she pleased. At the moment, the room was as nondescript as any suite in an upscale hotel; pleasant enough, but certainly not distinctive in any way. But for the first time, Wanda truly felt welcome on the team, and she now could regard this room as her safe space. It was something she never dared hope for. She flopped onto the comfortable bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sam had promised a big day for her tomorrow. Perhaps it might be wise to go to bed early, to be prepared for the long day ahead. But she hardly felt sleepy at all: for the first time that she could remember in recent memory, Wanda was actually excited and looking forward to what tomorrow would bring. It was an exhilarating feeling.

Her reverie was disrupted by a soft musical chirrup. Puzzled, Wanda looked around the room for the source of the sound. There was what appeared to be an oversized clock radio on the nightstand, with one pulsing light on top, evidently signaling an incoming transmission. Hesitantly, Wanda pressed the lighted button, and a holographic display, approximately nine inches high by eleven inches wide, appeared above the device. Natasha's smiling face appeared in the display.

"Hey, there," she greeted her. "I was hoping you might be back in your room by now."

"Natasha!" Wanda almost squealed with delight. "Where are you? Will you be back soon?"

"Actually, I'm calling because things are taking a little longer than I thought," Natasha admitted with obvious chagrin. "I'm at my apartment now, collecting my things. I should be done by midnight. I thought I would take a catnap here, and drive back as soon as it's light."

"You won't be back this evening?" Wanda's disappointment was acute and obvious.

"No. But I won't be returning empty-handed. I have a lot of new outfits for you. Mostly lots of active wear and exercise gear, since I know you're going to be more or less living in the training center for the next few weeks. I got some other outfits for you too, some dresses, slacks, tops, casual wear."

"Thank you," Wanda said humbly. "I don't know what else to say."

"When I get back, we'll start taking a proper assessment of your wardrobe. For right now, you're kind of stuck with my taste in clothes. But next time, we'll go shopping together, and you can pick out the stuff you want."

"That would be wonderful!"

"So, how was your day?"

"Sam gave me the grand tour of the building today. I know it's not supposed to be finished, but this place is huge. More than big enough for all of us."

"Yeah, it's a monstrosity, all right. Did Sam take you to the training center?"

"Yes, he did. It's amazing."

"He and Clint didn't have you do any training exercises today, did they?"

"No. Not really. Sam asked to see me using my powers. So we did some tests, how far and fast can I fly, can I lift heavy objects, stuff like that. He said he wanted to create a baseline to help create a training program for me." She made a face. "He's going to take me running at five in the morning tomorrow."

"Well, you're reporting to Sam now, so do what he tells you. But don't let those boys push you around," Natasha said severely. "They're there to help train you, nothing else."

"I promise."

"Did you get something to eat?"

"Maria made dinner for me tonight," Wanda declared proudly.

"Did she really? What did she make?"

"Grilled chicken, asparagus, a salad. And apple pie."

"Well, that was very nice of her."

"She said we hadn't had a chance to really talk before now, and she wanted to welcome me to the team. It really did make me feel a lot better. I'm so glad I'm going to be here with you guys."

"We're glad to have you with us, too."

"Maria also said a whole bunch of support staff will be arriving tomorrow, so if you see lots of crowds and cars when you drive up, not to panic."

"Good to know, thanks."

"Are you going to be keeping the room next to mine?"

"Yes, you're stuck with me," Natasha grinned. "Better learn to deal with it."

"I'm glad. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do we work for Tony Stark?"

"Do we... ohh. Let me guess. Maria had to discuss payroll with you this afternoon. No, Wanda, we don't work for Tony. That would be a fate too horrible to contemplate."

Natasha made a face, and Wanda giggled at Natasha's answer.

"As far as our organization goes, Steve is our commanding officer," Natasha continued. "We work for him. We take all our orders - in and out of the field - from him. If you want to know who signs your paycheck, her name is Pepper Potts, and among other things, she's the CEO of the Stark Foundation, which is owned by Tony's family, but Tony isn't involved in it. You can Google her later, if you like. But not tonight," she added quickly. "If Sam is starting your training first thing tomorrow, you'll want to be well rested."

"I'm going to turn in soon."

"Good. Would you mind letting Maria know I'll call her later, and that I should be back around lunchtime tomorrow?"

"I'll tell her," Wanda promised, and after a pause, added, "I'm glad you called. I'm going to miss you tonight."

"I'll miss you, too."

"You'll come see me as soon as you get back?"

"As soon as I can hack my way through all those crowds you warned me about," Natasha grinned. "I'll bring a machete." Her smile turned noticeably tender. "Sleep well, Wanda. And sweet dreams."

"You too," Wanda answered.

A moment later, the display disappeared and the call ended. With a sigh, Wanda rolled over so she was once again on her back. Yes, she would miss Natasha tonight, desperately. But she also felt like a salve had been applied to her broken heart. She was in a place where she was not only welcomed, but valued; and the people with her were not just taking a professional interest in her, but a very personal one. No matter how much pain she might be feeling, she was no longer alone. To Wanda, that made all the difference in the world.

* * *

The following morning was bitterly cold, and a light rain was falling. Wanda was already standing in the empty, dimly-lit lobby, stretching out her legs, when Sam and Maria came down the stairs, both dressed for a run.

"Well, well," Sam declared with a chuckle. "The rookie's good for her word. I was sure I was gonna have to turn you out of bed."

"Someone told me that for best results I need to give maximum effort," Wanda said, with a sly smile to Maria. "So here I am."

"Good. Finish your stretching. That's gonna help, it's kind of chilly out there today."

"Where are we going?" Wanda asked. "It's still dark outside."

"There's a lighted path, around the perimeter of the compound," Maria explained.

"Are you running with us, too?" Wanda wanted to know.

"Well... I am running, but not with you guys," Maria answered. "I can't idle myself alongside the pace car all morning." She tilted her head towards Sam. "Some of us have _real_ work to do."

Sam snorted mildly at Maria's taunt, but said nothing.

"By the way, that's not a diss on you, Wanda," Maria added quickly. "I just like giving Sam a hard time."

"Got it." Wanda grinned.

"Don't forget to have my breakfast ready at seven," Maria said to Sam, as she headed for the double doors.

"What? I thought today was _your_ turn in the kitchen."

"Hey, it's not my fault you didn't look at the duty roster."

"Which you just make up, as you go along," Sam scoffed.

"It was posted last week."

"What about Barton?" Sam protested. "It's not like he's doing anything."

"Barton wasn't scheduled to be here this week."

"So? Let him fill in while he's here. You're the XO. Change the schedule!"

"I could put you on KP for the rest of the week," Maria smiled sweetly.

Sam decided not to challenge that. "Have a nice run," he said.

With a jaunty wave to Wanda, Maria went through the double doors and disappeared into the early morning rain.

"She likes you," Wanda observed with a sly grin. "I can tell by the way she teases you."

"You need to mind your own business, rookie," Sam scolded her. "And right now, your business is completing a 4K run with me in twenty minutes."

"Twenty _minutes?"_

"I'm only putting you on grandmother speed because I know you're not used to this stuff," Sam declared, setting his stopwatch. "I'll be expecting much better, after we've beaten you into shape."

"Oh, that'll be fun."

"And no backtalk. Or I'll make you run the course twice."

"Yes, sir," Wanda grinned.

Fortunately, Wanda had already gotten into the habit of morning runs with Natasha, even though the distances involved were considerably shorter. Sam set the pace, and despite his longer stride, Wanda found she could reasonably keep up. As they continued, she also became aware that Sam was intentionally holding back for her sake. And he was watching her attentively - not to judge her performance, but to make certain she wasn't in any real difficulty. When they completed the run, and returned to the double doors in the front of the building, Sam checked his stopwatch.

"Twenty-three minutes," he fumed in exasperation. "That definitely puts you into the 'shame' category, rookie. I _walk_ that fast."

"You have... longer legs," Wanda pointed out, while she bent over, hands on her knees.

Sam put a comforting hand on Wanda's back, watching her closely. "Pay attention to your breathing," he suggested. "Deep and regular as you can. You'll recover faster."

"Okay."

"How's the knees? Ankles? Everything still good?"

Wanda gave him a quick 'thumbs up' with one hand.

"Yeah, well... lucky for you, I forgot about the duty roster," Sam told her. "We'll have to cut your exercise program a little short this morning. You can help me in the kitchen."

"Oh, good," Wanda panted.

"Don't worry, we'll make up for it later," Sam promised.

"No, I mean... good... kitchen is... one place I can really help," Wanda gasped, slowly straightening up.

* * *

Although Sam and Wanda had never worked in tandem before, Wanda was good for her word, she knew her way around a kitchen; and together they had a nourishing breakfast of eggs, roasted potatoes, muffins, cut fruit, coffee and juice all prepared when Maria, Steve and Clint entered the dining room at seven. The sun was finally up and streaming in through the east-facing windows, giving an especially cheery atmosphere to the dining room. Clint was still in civilian clothes, but Steve and Maria were in their dress uniforms, with the sole exception of Steve's absent helmet, which evidently meant they were handling Avengers business in a public setting this day.

"Looks like you had some help in the kitchen, Sam," Steve remarked, as he sat down at the table.

"I did, Cap. And Wanda actually was a big help this morning."

"Good to hear," Steve smiled warmly at Wanda, and she wriggled with pleasure at his recognition.

While the other three ate in relative silence, it was obvious that Steve and Maria had business to discuss. Maria consulted her tablet frequently as they talked.

"Were you able to get ahold of Selvig last night?"

"Yes. He's ready to come out here, whenever we can send someone to pick him up."

"Tomorrow's probably the earliest I could fly out. I have all the incoming staff to meet today, and I assume you still want Sam working with Wanda full-time."

"I do. Clint, what's on your schedule today?"

"I was going to help Sam with a training simulation for Wanda," he answered. "But I can put that off, if you need a pilot."

"No. That's fine. Go ahead with what you've already planned. Selvig's going to need a day or two anyway, to come up with his equipment list." Steve turned back to Maria. "Call him tonight, though, and confirm a travel day."

"Will do."

"What's Natasha's status?"

"She should be back by noon. And then we'll have a full house, up to the end of the week. Unless you're hanging around longer, Barton," she added, casting a glance at Clint.

"If you guys need me, I'll stay. If not, I have a big hole in my dining room wall that I promised Laura I'd get rid of. Otherwise she'll kill me, and you'll be minus one Avenger."

"Keep your plans," Steve grinned. "We'll let you know if the Chitauri decide to invade again."

"Thanks, Cap."

"Are all staff arriving today?" Steve asked Maria.

"Not everyone. Grounds staff will be coming out next week, under the subcontract already in place with the Stark Foundation. We have ten support staff arriving this morning, including three former S.H.I.E.L.D. specialists to man the situation room. Happy's offered to spend the first week with us, to help keep order around here, until all the routines are established."

"Let him know his help is very welcome, and appreciated."

"I'm assuming we don't want barracks for either Hogan or Selvig."

"That's affirmative."

"You don't mind if we put them in rooms on the residence floor?"

"No, in fact, the two suites nearest the elevator should be earmarked as guest suites in any case. The large suite should be permanently reserved for the Starks."

Maria frowned disapprovingly. "That really should be your suite, Steve. You're the leader of the Avengers now."

"I really don't need a wet bar in my quarters," Steve grinned. "It's fine. Let Tony have that space. It suits him. He'll be happy, we'll be happy."

"What about the Vision?"

Steve sighed heavily. "I haven't made up my mind yet."

"We'll have to quarter him somewhere," Maria pointed out. "Especially if you still want him coming out here at the end of next week."

"Let's circle back to that," Steve decided. "I need to chew on that a while longer."

"Roger that. Now, on the vehicle inventory..."

Sam leaned over and gently tapped Wanda on the shoulder. "When everyone's finished, you and I will clean up the kitchen," he said, in a low voice so as not to disturb Steve and Maria. "Then, at 9:30, report to me and Clint in the training center. Don't worry about cleaning up. We'll have some gear set aside for you to wear for this simulation."

Wanda's thoughts were elsewhere. "The Vision is coming here?" she asked excitedly.

"That's what Maria said. Why's that important?"

"It's just... the Vision saved my life. I never got a chance to thank him."

"Well, looks like you'll get your chance. Did you hear what I just said to you?"

"We're cleaning up the kitchen after breakfast. Then be in the training center, 9:30 sharp."

"All right, then," Sam nodded, satisfied.

"You're not gonna make me crawl through mud, or anything like that, are you?" Wanda asked apprehensively.

"No," Sam answered, with a completely straight face. "Nothing like that at all."


	12. Chapter 12

"Welcome to your first training exercise," Sam Wilson announced.

"We hope you survive," deadpanned Clint Barton.

"Oh, wow!"

For the second time in as many visits, Wanda found herself overwhelmed by the view inside the training center. The first time, she'd been awed by the sheer vastness of the space. Today, however, she was presented with something entirely new: a fairly impressive re-creation of a wide-laned city street, nearly the length of an entire block, with storefronts, sidewalks, streetlamps, parked cars, even a fire hydrant. The fronts of the buildings were simply facades, similar to a movie set; but each of the "buildings" was three stories high, with several open windows in each. Scaffolds ran along the backsides with catwalks for each floor. A large white passenger van, a real one, was parked at the close end, around the "corner" of the street, with its bay doors open. Inside the rear compartment sat a poseable mannequin, approximately the size of an adult male.

"How did you guys manage to build all this?" Wanda gaped in amazement.

"We didn't," Clint admitted. "Well... not all of it."

"You remember those Iron Legion drones I showed you earlier?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Wanda nodded.

"They're not just foot soldiers. Turns out, they're also really good at building things in a hurry."

"This is incredible," Wanda breathed, walking onto the street.

"So, what's gonna happen today, is a hostage rescue scenario," Sam explained. "There's a family of five, two adults and three children, trapped on the third floor of the building farthest from us," he pointed to the approximate location at the end of the street. "The stairs have collapsed, and there's no elevator, so your only option is to take each family member out through the front windows. You'll need to bring each hostage down here, to the end of the street, and place them in the back of the van. When you do that, they're 'rescued'. You get bonus points if you save the family dog."

Wanda burst out laughing. "There's a dummy dog, too?"

"But there's one problem," Sam carried on. "The bad guys don't want you stealing their precious hostages away from them. They've worked really hard to get this poor, innocent family trussed up for ransom. So, while you're attempting your rescue, they are going to be shooting at you."

"Shooting," Wanda repeated dubiously.

"This is a hostile fire scenario," Clint interjected. "It's actually very similar to a real-life situation that Nat and I were in about five years ago. We were trying to rescue a diplomat and his family from a group of terrorists."

"You saved an entire family while terrorists were _shooting_ at you?"

"Let's just say, I'm hoping you'll do better than we did."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"This isn't a joke, Wanda." Clint seemed utterly serious.

"We really wanted an entire army for this exercise," Sam said. "But we weren't going to try programming any of the drones for combat simulations without Stark's help. So today, you're facing off against just me, Barton and Redwing."

"Redwing?"

Sam grinned. "Let me introduce you."

They walked over to a large folding table near the entrance. On the tabletop sat a squat-looking device with a metallic red finish, the purpose of which Wanda couldn't even begin to guess at.

"This is an X-RW1 surveillance drone," Sam explained. "Also known as a Redwing. We used to send these things into hot zones all the time, when I was working in Pararescue. The drones would confirm if it was safe enough to deploy rescue forces. This is a modified version Stark's been working on for us. It's only a prototype, but when it's finished, it will have not only the finest surveillance equipment, but also combat capabilities. For today, though, I've rigged it to do... this."

Sam touched a button on his gauntlet, and the drone rose noiselessly into the air. A large tube had been fastened to the underside of drone, along with what appeared to be an oversized magazine made of clear plastic. Several brightly colored spheres were visible inside the magazine. The Redwing drone swooped down, close to one of the storefronts, and there was an audible 'burp' as the plastic cannon discharged, and a paint pellet splattered against the wall.

"Oh, _nice,"_ Clint chuckled approvingly.

"It can discharge with shotgun protocol, one pellet at a time, or it can empty the entire magazine like a semi-automatic weapon. It is, if I say so myself, pretty badass. So, tell me, Wanda," Sam asked, "Have you ever played... _paintball?"_

Wanda shook her head. "When you mentioned shooting, I thought maybe you were suggesting laser tag, or something."

"We actually considered that," Sam nodded. "But one of the things you said you wanted to work on was creating shields. A laser wouldn't really work in that scenario. We wanted something more tangible to throw up against the shields you create. So, unless you have some weird kink about being covered head to toe in gooey paint, you'll learn real fast how to make a good, sturdy shield."

Wanda made a face. "I guess I will," she shuddered.

"The other thing you mentioned is practicing control with lifting and moving objects. Come over here." They stepped to the back of the open van. "This is an actual crash test dummy, the kind they use for vehicle collision tests," Sam explained. "Go ahead, wrap your arms around this one, try to lift it."

Wanda did as asked, and grunted in surprise. She could barely shift the mannequin. " _Oof!_ He's heavy."

"These dummies are the approximate weight of a real person. And they're jointed, as a person would be. There are five of these dummies in the 'hostage room' - two adults, three children. This will give you an opportunity to practice control while lifting objects using your power."

Wanda sighed. "Well, now I know why you wanted me wearing this ratty old t-shirt and sweatpants."

"Yeah, we're not expecting your clothing to survive this particular engagement. But we're not done gearing you up yet." Sam turned to Clint. "Would you do the honors?"

"Sure." He gestured to the back of the van. "Have a seat," he invited Wanda. "Take off your shoes and socks. Throw 'em anywhere in the back."

Wanda seated herself on the rear bumper, and began to remove her shoes. As she did so, Clint brought out what appeared to be a black bullet-proof vest. Wanda's eyes went wide.

"What is that, body armor?"

"Well... it's not Kevlar, but it is protective gear," Clint told her. "Sometimes, these paint pellets can leave some really nasty bruises or welts. So, just as a precaution, we're going to pad you up a little bit. Raise your arms up for me, just a sec. Thanks."

Clint draped the vest over Wanda's shoulders and began to snug up the side straps. He hesitated for a moment, long enough for Wanda to begin to worry. "Problem?"

"No. No, it's just - I didn't realize how... busty you are," Clint admitted.

"That's a good thing, right?" Wanda grinned.

"It's only bad if I get your vest too tight," Clint answered, finishing the straps on both dorsals. "Okay. How does that feel? The vest should be snug, it shouldn't slip at all, but you should have full range of movement, and you should be able to breathe normally."

Wanda experimented with turning her torso and stretching her arms out in front of her. "No, perfect fit," she reported, giving him a sly grin. "You must have done this before."

"A few times," Clint admitted, returning the grin.

"Why did you want my shoes off?"

"Have you ever taped up your ankles before?"

"No."

"Then watch me, as I do it for you. This is important. You need to know how to do this. A sprained ankle is a _very_ common injury - and a bad one can sideline you for weeks. It's not worth the risk. We'll also give you some boots that will provide ankle support."

Sam was busy strapping himself into similar gear. "I assume you know how to throw energy bolts strong enough to knock us off our feet, but _not_ send us to the hospital, right?"

"Oh, sure," Wanda answered. "That was one of the first things I learned how to do. I know the exact strength and speed to send a soldier flying through a plate glass window," she declared proudly.

"Oh, that's good to know," Sam retorted. "Bound to come in handy one day."

Clint had taped up Wanda's ankles, and brought out another set of padding, for the upper arms and legs.

"I'm going to look like an American football player," Wanda complained.

"This isn't a game, Wanda," Clint said evenly, as he attached the first pad. "It's a war game. There's a big difference. The purpose here is to teach you good habits to use when you're in the field. Habits that could save your life." Lastly, he brought out a helmet and goggles. "Here - put these on and snug up the straps, tight as you can, without constricting. And this is important. Do not, under _any_ circumstances, remove these goggles while the training exercise is in progress. You're not to take them off, until Sam or I give you the all-clear. An eye injury is _not_ something we want today. Understood?"

"Understood," Wanda answered, putting the helmet on over her head.

"I know the precautions seem excessive, but even in a training exercise, things can go sideways," Clint told her. "When the simulation begins, if you get into any trouble, real trouble, and you need a time out, just yell 'cease fire'. If you say that, we shut down everything, and come running to check on you."

"Some rules of engagement," Sam added. "At no time, ever, will Clint or I intentionally fire anywhere near your head or face. And the Redwing drone has been programmed to target only your upper chest or thighs. All the sidewalks are equipped with crash pads that will deploy immediately, if any sensor detects a falling body. You can use your powers to protect yourself or the hostages, and to engage with us offensively. You can even take a shot at Redwing, but be gentle with him. Right now, he's the only prototype we have."

"Okay."

"The exercise will be timed. You have six minutes to retrieve as many of the hostages as you can. If we 'kill' one of the hostages, that does not end the exercise. It just lowers your score. You should still attempt to rescue as many of the remaining hostages as you can. If we get a 'kill' shot on you, the round is over. You can use anything you find on the street as either a shield, or a weapon. The room containing the hostages and the van are the only 'safe spaces' where you won't be targeted. You can use any doorway, stairwell or vehicle for protective cover, but stepping off the street area - say, through one of the windows onto the catwalks - is out of bounds. Assume you can be fired on from any rooftop, any open window, or anywhere on the ground. You'll start from the van, come up the street, the first shots will not fire until you're out of the window with the first hostage. Clear?"

"Clear. How do I remove you guys from the game?"

"Remove us?"

"Well, you can tag me out by hitting me with paint, but you're not giving me a gun to defend myself, so how do I tag _you_ out?"

"You don't. We're unstoppable zombie monster killer paintgun assassins."

"Oh, come _on,"_ Wanda protested. "How fair is that?"

"Who said this was going to be fair?" Sam retorted.

"We're intentionally placing you at a disadvantage," Clint attempted to offer a more rational explanation. "Because we want to see how you perceive threats, and how you react to adverse situations. Your responses will help us come up with much more effective and valuable training exercises for you."

"Yeah, right. You guys are just doing this to see me all covered in paint, aren't you?"

"Actually, I've got a bottle of bourbon riding on you walking out of here today without a drop of paint on you," Clint confessed.

"Betting on the outcome of the game you're playing in? Isn't that a conflict of interest?" Wanda grinned.

"Oh, no. I'm a cold-blooded assassin. Once the game starts, my only goal is to 'kill' you. But I've seen you in the field. Sam hasn't. He has no idea what he's in for."

"All right, all right," Sam groused. "Any questions before we start?"

"Yeah. Who do I rescue first?"

"You tell us," Sam answered.

"No, I mean, is there an order to this, or -?"

"That's your judgment call to make. For the purposes of this exercise, assume that the adults and the children are all unresponsive, and they cannot make their wishes known to you. You have no one else to call on for help. So, who do you try to save first?"

"I - I don't know," Wanda floundered. "What's the correct answer?"

"Like we said, Wanda, this isn't just a powers test. We want to see what kind of decisions you make while under fire," Clint said. "Even though Cap will be giving orders in the field, there are all kinds of situations where you will have to make decisions on your own in a literal split-second. How you react could determine whether you live or die - or whether the people with you live or die."

"In this room, you can make a mistake, and still get up and walk away," Sam added. "That won't happen out in the real world."

Clint's expression was uncharacteristically solemn. "Ever since Fury put the Avengers together, we've never lost anyone on a mission," he told Wanda. "That streak won't last. What we do is so dangerous, we _will_ lose someone eventually. It will happen. But no one on this team - _no one_ \- wants you to be our first casualty. The first mission isn't just to protect the people who are defenseless. The first mission is, everyone comes home. Safe and sound. Not just the people who need to be rescued, but the people who came to rescue them. We want you to come home safe from every mission, Wanda. Every time."

"Okay," Wanda nodded, eyes wide and very sober.

"Now, finish getting your boots on, while I gear up. Then Sam and I will take up positions to start the first round. There's a radio headset in your helmet, so we'll check in with you right before we start."

A few moments later, as Sam stepped over to the table to reset the Redwing drone, Clint put a reassuring hand on Wanda's shoulder. "All geared up?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Don't be nervous. You got this."

"I'm not nervous. But this test... you're not really giving me much of a chance."

"And you're not giving yourself much of a chance, either. I watched you destroy dozens of Ultron drones, coming at you from all sides. Today, it's just me and Sam and one drone, with a couple of paint guns between us. This should be a cakewalk for you." Clint shouldered his weapon. "Believe in yourself, Wanda. I do."

Wanda gave him a grateful smile in reply.

Clint touched his earpiece. "Hawkeye to Falcon, radio check."

"Reading you loud and clear."

"Moving into first position now."

"Copy."

Clint sprinted away. Wanda turned to see that Sam had already disappeared. The drone was lazily taking cover behind the facades to her right.

The radio receiver in Wanda's headset crackled. "Wanda, test exercise begins in ten seconds."

"Copy," Wanda replied.

She shook out her arms, cracked her neck from side to side, and inhaled deeply. She brought her hands up from her sides, her palms already sparking with ruby-red energy.

"You _got_ this," she told herself.

The alarm claxon sounded, signaling the beginning of the first round. Wanda turned the corner, and dashed out into the street.


	13. Chapter 13

As Wanda sprinted to the opposite end of test area, she made it a point to look around her, taking careful note of the layout on both sides of the street. This would be the only 'free pass' where she could take stock of the terrain before being fired upon. Sam and Clint had left her with several areas on either side of the street where she could take cover, deep recessed doorways, faux stairwells, even a few parked cars. Even so, she somehow had to traverse the street, in the open, multiple times, carrying hostages - essentially dead weight - and there would be no warning of any attack. By the time she heard a shot, the paintball would have already found its target. So, how to get herself and the hostages to safety?

The 'hostage room' had been placed on the third 'floor' deliberately; Sam wanted to force Wanda to fly as part of this exercise, and often. That part was easy enough. She could float herself up to the third story window and descend, almost without effort. Once she emerged from the safe room, however, she and her rescued family member would become targets. _How do I make myself not a target?_ Wanda wondered.

Clint had told her that part of the exercise was seeing what kinds of solutions she would come up with for this scenario. But for the moment, she hadn't any idea, apart from continually racing back and forth along the street, hoping she could use her energy shields and the surrounding terrain to protect her from a 'kill shot'. She was certain that strategy would prove fruitless in the long term. But she still wasn't sure how else to proceed.

Reaching the end of the street, she lifted her arms from her sides, and let a gentle burst of ruby-red energy carry her aloft. She reached the open window in seconds, and clambered inside. As soon as she emerged again, she would be a target. The 'room' wasn't anything more than an extension of the catwalk, but it had been walled off, so Wanda had no view of the rest of the facade; she would have no idea where Clint might be lurking in wait for her. The 'hostages' - five crash test dummies - had been loosely propped up against the wall.

 _Take one of the children first,_ Wanda thought to herself. She had no rationale for that decision other than, for a first run, it would be easier to gauge her strength while lifting the weight of a child; and, the thought that any parent who was conscious would surely plead with her to carry the children away to safety first. She would need to leave at least one arm free, however. She needed to stabilize her 'flight' down to the sidewalk, and also be able to throw up an energy shield for protection the moment she landed. She wondered if she could extend a shield while in flight. She thought she probably could - but, she had never tried to do that before.

She hefted the smallest of the mannequins in her arms. As she expected, it was about sixty pounds of dead weight. Fortunately, she was able to hoist the 'child' cradled in one arm, with the upper torso draped over her shoulder. Wanda regarded the open window warily. _Now the fun begins,_ she thought to herself.

Radiating energy to keep herself from simply falling to the street, Wanda launched herself through the window. She reached the street in two, perhaps three seconds, but she hadn't given herself enough buoyancy; the landing was too hard, and sent an unpleasant reverberating shock running up through her ankles and knees. She remembered Clint's strident warning about protecting herself, and was suddenly glad she'd allowed him to tape her ankles. The moment she was down, she created an "umbrella" of her signature energy wave. It would provide adequate protection from any overhead attacks, but she was having difficulty extending the shield downwards, to also protect her from any attacks at street level. There was no time to waste, however. Shifting the weight of the mannequin in her arms, Wanda began to sprint towards the other end of the street, praying she was sufficiently guarded for the first run.

She made it half-way across the distance without a single shot being fired, and she began to worry. Why wasn't anyone firing on her? What were they planning?

Wanda didn't stop running, but as she got close to the end, Clint simply stepped out of a doorway in front of her, gun sights raised. Wanda froze - and she knew as soon as she did so, it was a costly mistake. Clint shook his head sadly, and fired.

The pellet impacted on the protective vest with surprising force, and Wanda was knocked off-balance. She dropped the mannequin and went sprawling into the street. Groaning, she pushed herself up on one elbow. The shot was perfectly centered, leaving a blotch of bright red paint right over her heart.

Clint tutted in genuine disappointment. "Damn," he murmured softly. "That was one expensive shot."

"Expensive?" Wanda winced.

"Just cost me a bottle of bourbon. A nice one. Cease fire," he called out in a loud voice, and the buzzer sounded again, indicating the end of the round.

"Why weren't you guys firing on me?" Wanda asked, getting to her feet.

Clint snorted. "What do you call that big hole in your chest?"

"You know what I mean. I almost made it."

"Almost being the operative word."

"I thought you guys were going to open fire the moment I stepped out of the window."

"That could still happen. Probably will," Clint replied. "This isn't a video arcade, Wanda. Some rounds might have a hundred shots. Others, just one. Always, _always_ keep your eyes open, look at what's around you. Be aware of your surroundings at all times. Especially when you're caught out in the open. You never know where and when you might need to duck for cover." He gave her a sympathetic smile. "Ready to try again?"

"I guess so. Ugh." Wanda stretched out gingerly. "You're right about those pellets. They really sting. I'm glad you made me get padded up."

"Paintball is one of the most ugly, vicious and brutal games ever devised by man," Clint declared. "It brings out the absolute worst in everyone."

"Which is why you love it so much," Wanda retorted.

"Well, duh," Clint grinned. He picked up the mannequin and slung it over his shoulder. "Okay, park yourself on the rear of the van. Catch your breath. Soon as I put this dummy back in position, we'll go again."

"Swell," Wanda groaned. She walked over to the van and slumped dejectedly on the bumper. _Well, that was an epic fail,_ she scolded herself. _What will you do for an encore?_

The radio in her headset crackled again.

"Fifteen seconds," Sam's voice warned her.

"Copy," Wanda answered, pushing herself upright, shaking out her arms and taking in a couple of deep breaths. She was also keenly aware that each sprint was going to sap more and more of her energy, so the longer this went on, the less effective she'd become. There had to be some way to complete the mission before she exhausted herself.

The buzzer sounded again, and taking a deep breath, Wanda launched herself back into the street. She had barely crossed a few yards before the Redwing drone swooped down on her from the rafters above.

Yelping with surprise, Wanda dropped to one knee, raising her crossed arms up over her head, generating the most powerful energy shield she knew how to create. And she did so just in time - the drone bore down on her with astonishing speed, and unloaded its entire magazine of paintballs in the space of a few seconds. The paint splattered and steamed against the barrier created by Wanda's energy wave. It rained down and coated almost everything around her - the street, a parked car, a storefront. The drone lifted up and soared away, programmed to retrieve another full magazine from somewhere behind the facade. Wanda scrambled to her feet, and pelted for the end of the street at a dead run. She saw Clint aiming for her from a second story window, and she threw up a shield just in time to protect herself from another kill shot. _He knows exactly where to shoot,_ Wanda realized with a shudder. _I bet he never misses._

A paintball went hurtling past Wanda's right shoulder, so close she could feel as much as hear the 'sizzle' of its velocity as it passed. Sam must have been laying in wait for her to pass by, and then try to catch her from behind. By some miracle, the shot had missed. Not breaking stride, Wanda launched herself into the air, and sailed into the safe room where the mannequins were patiently awaiting rescue.

Panting heavily, Wanda stayed on her hands and knees for a moment. She'd made it through the first gauntlet. She realized this exercise might even be fun - if only she could find someway to even the odds, or at least turn them slightly in her favor.

Slowly, she pushed herself up on one knee. _Just make it with this first one,_ she told herself. _Get one hostage safe across the finish line. It will all come together after that. Or at least get easier._

She reached over to grab the nearest mannequin. She hoisted it to her shoulder as before, staring at the window. She wasn't going to get a free pass this time, she was sure of that. But there was only one way out. Through the window and down. She frowned. Maybe she could try flying to the opposite side of the street? That might catch Sam and Clint off guard. She couldn't sail in through another window, that was out of bounds. Her best option was straight down, fast as she could go, shielding herself as best she could.

Taking a deep breath, she cocooned herself in energy bands, and dove out the window. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Clint targeting her from about four windows over. She tried to twist herself out of the way, and also keep her shield pointed towards him, but she was too slow. The paintball exploded harmlessly on her energy shield, but Wanda was thrown off-balance, and she fell, unprotected, towards the street.

The crash pad deployed perfectly, and Wanda landed on her back in soft, cushioning foam. The fall didn't even really knock the wind out of her. But she lay unmoving where she fell, spread-eagled on the mat, burning with frustration. _How do I beat this?!_

She could hear Clint's voice calling out hoarsely, "Cease fire!" - and moments later, Clint and Sam were bending over her, their concern plainly visible on their faces. She glared up at both of them in disgust.

"I _hate_ you," Wanda declared emphatically.

Clint sighed with relief; only Wanda's pride was hurt. He pointed innocently at Sam.

"Just him, or -?"

"BOTH of you!" Wanda shouted.

"No, you don't," Sam replied, imperturbably. "Come on, rookie. On your feet."

He held out a hand, and after a moment, Wanda took it, and Sam effortlessly pulled her up.

"You know what this means," he said.

"I know, I know. I'm dead, the people I'm trying to rescue are dead, everybody's dead. AARGGHH!" She shrieked in aggravation.

"Suck it up, rookie. We haven't even started in on you yet."

"And _please_ stop calling me that," Wanda said. "It's really annoying."

"Oh? What should we call you, princess?"

"She does need a proper field alias at some point," Clint pointed out.

"Let Maria handle that. Sounds like the XO's job to me."

"As long as she doesn't choose what Stark calls her... ohh, crap."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Clint knew he'd made a horrible mistake. Sam glared at him in genuine anger. Wanda stared at Clint.

"Tony Stark has a name for me? What does he call me?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Clint made a grimace of embarrassment. "Uhh..."

"Don't look at me, Barton," Sam snorted. "You put your foot in your own damn mouth. I ain't pulling it out for you."

"What does Tony Stark call me?" Wanda repeated her question insistently. "Clint, what does he call me?"

Clint sighed. There was no escaping from this faux pas.

"He calls you... the Scarlet Witch," he admitted finally.

Wanda's jaw dropped. "The Scarlet...?"

"Because, when you use your powers, your eyes and your hair get all... well, you know." Clint made a helpless gesture, waving his hands near his face. Wanda stared at him, speechless.

"Oh, nice going, Barton," Sam snorted angrily. "You kick puppies, too?"

"The Scarlet Witch..." Wanda mulled that over thoughtfully. "I like it," she decided, after a moment's consideration.

Clint stared at her, dumbfounded. "You _do?"_

"Yeah. It fits me."

"You must be joking."

"Seriously. You want _that_ as your field alias?" Sam asked in bewilderment.

"Sure, why not? It's no worse than the 'Black Widow' or 'Captain America'. Or 'The Falcon'," she gave Sam a mischievous grin.

"That's the name of the rescue suit, not..." Sam gave up with an irritated grunt. "Okay. Fine. Whatever. We hereby dub thee 'The Scarlet Witch'. Rise, and be valiant. Now, Dame Scarlet, if you wouldn't mind, would you kindly haul your supernatural ass back over to the van, so we can start the next round? _Please?"_

Wanda gave them both a wicked grin. "Watch out, boys," she warned them. "It's the Scarlet Witch coming after you now. This round will be different. You'll see."

She sprinted away. Sam glared angrily at Clint.

"I got half a mind to start shooting at _you,_ instead of her," he growled.

"It worked out," Clint protested meekly. "She likes the name. How was I to know?"

"Never mind! Get your ass back up on the catwalk! And put those dummies back in position!"

As Clint hurried away, Sam shook his head, muttering angrily to himself. "This is supposed to be a war games exercise, not a freakin' kindergarten class."

Wanda sat on the bumper of the van, thinking furiously. She was going about this all wrong, she was sure of it. And then the answer came to her. It was so obvious, she almost winced.

Of _course_ Sam and Clint hadn't given her a gun. She didn't need one. She had a far more powerful weapon at her disposal - one that no gun could match.

Wanda's mind began to race. If this were a real-world scenario, how would she react? If the bad guys were shooting bullets at her, she certainly wouldn't waste her time trying to dodge the bullets. She would neutralize the shooters first, before even thinking of attempting a rescue of the hostages. Wanda's whole face brightened with inspiration.

"Fifteen seconds," Sam's voice came over the radio.

"Copy," Wanda responded. She raised her hands, red energy bands sparking brightly from her palms. A confident grin pasted itself to her face. Oh, yes, this round was going to end much differently.

The buzzer sounded. Wanda leapt up as if she'd been stung, and charged onto the street, writhing energy bands encircling her arms and hands. As before, the opening attack came from the Redwing drone, who was beginning its initial dive-bombing run.

"Oh, no, you don't!" Wanda growled angrily. " _This_ time, I'm ready for you!"

As the Redwing drone swooped down into firing position, Wanda sprinted backwards in apparent retreat; at the last possible second, she raised her hand and encased the entire drone in an energy bubble - just as it attempted to discharge the entire magazine. In seconds, the bubble was flooded to the top with paint. The paint not only covered the drone and its cameras, but seeped into its intake vents and its propellers. Sensing its propulsion systems had been compromised, the drone shut itself down, and spiraled to the ground.

" _Got_ you!" Wanda grunted in satisfaction. "Choke on that!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sam drawing aim on her. She let him. As soon as he fired, she lashed out with an energy band, meeting the paintball and slingshotting it away. Sam raised to fire again, but the grin on his face made his reaction obvious: he was clearly delighted that Wanda had figured out the crucial aspect of winning the round.

Wanda dove across the hood of the nearest car. As she expected, Clint was taking a bead on her from the opposite side of the street, two windows up and to her left. She lashed out with an energy band to force him to retreat from the window; as he ducked, Wanda reached out with her other hand, and ripped a door of the nearest storefront right out of its frame. As she suspected, a cache of paintballs was just sitting there. Well, at no point had Sam or Clint said to her that she couldn't raid the enemy caches for her own use. Using her powers, Wanda scooped up a half-dozen paintballs, and sent them hurtling towards the windows where Sam and Clint were positioned. She could hear Sam exclaim, quite audibly over the radio, "Oh, shit!" - just before the paintballs splattered around the window frames and ledges. Wanda's aim hadn't been perfect, but that didn't matter. Now all the players knew - the Scarlet Witch had finally joined the game.

* * *

It was nearly midday when Natasha finally completed the long drive from Manhattan back to the upstate facility. There were several cars parked along the sidewalk as she pulled into the driveway, and even as she got out of the car, she could see several people going to and fro inside the lobby. Happy Hogan, Pepper Stark's personal bodyguard, came hurrying down the steps to meet her.

"Hey, Happy," she greeted him. "What a difference a day makes around here, huh?"

"Hey, Tasha. Welcome home."

"Thanks. I guess this is home now, isn't it? And yeah, it's good to be here. And it's nice to see you," she added. "I'm so glad Pepper was willing to loan you to us for a few days."

"Good to see you too, gorgeous. Can I assume you have a car trunk full of clothes?"

Natasha sighed with chagrin. "Yes, I certainly do. Not to mention the back seat. And the passenger seat."

"You want me to have your luggage delivered direct to your suite?"

"You can do that?" Natasha didn't dare hope she would spared the burden of making several trips from the car with several very heavy garment bags.

"Relax, Tasha," Happy grinned. "You actually have staff on site now. And yeah, we can have someone do the whole bellhop thing for you. Just leave the car here, we'll park it around back for you."

"Happy, you're a lifesaver," Natasha declared with a grateful smile. "I don't suppose you've seen Wanda this morning?"

"Haven't seen her, but I understand she's in the training center, with Barton and Wilson. I wouldn't go in there, though," he cautioned. "They basically hung a big 'do not disturb' on the doors first thing this morning, and nobody's seen or heard from them since."

"Oh, not to worry. I have unrestricted access everywhere," Natasha grinned.

"Okay. It's your neck. I'll let Cap and Maria know you're home."

"Thanks, Happy. I'll catch up with you later."

Natasha hurried inside. She had a nagging suspicion as to what sort of training exercise the men had prepared for Wanda, and she was fully prepared to be outraged about it.

Deciding to bypass the main entrance, she went instead to the observation deck on the third floor, and as soon as she entered, she heard a very familiar and unwelcome sound of air guns discharging paint capsules.

"I'm going to _kill_ them," Natasha seethed, striding angrily across the balcony. "I'm going to skin them alive and mount their hides on my wall!"

As she came up to the guardrail, though, she paused, watching the scene unfolding below. Wanda was striding confidently up the fake street, two mannequins safely encircled in energy bands, while paint balls were flying at her from every direction. Wanda simply had them sailing away from her with a dismissive wave of her hand. Natasha had never seen Wanda expending this much energy when using her power before; even from this distance, she could see that Wanda's eyes were glowing bright red, and her hair was nearly the color of fire, practically lighting up the street of its own accord. The continual energy bolts discharging from her body were almost blinding, lighting up the entire training center like some gargantuan pyrotechnic display. And there was something else. Wanda was laughing. Merrily. Heartily.

"You have to do better than that, boys!" Wanda sang out to her teammates.

Natasha stared in amazement for nearly a full minute, then turned and touched the intercom on the wall. "Steve, Maria, can you report to the observation deck of the training center immediately, please. There's something you need to see."

Steve and Maria arrived a few moments later, just as the next round was starting.

"Hey, Natasha," Maria greeted her. "This is kind of a bad time. We have a whole new crew here right now -"

"I know, but you'll _really_ want to see this." She tilted her head towards the floor below.

They all watched as Wanda navigated the trap-laden street with relative ease, engaging with Sam, Clint and Redwing simultaneously, deflecting their constant attacks, and sending them all diving for cover with some well-placed attacks of her own. Both Steve and Maria could only stare in slack-jawed amazement.

"Holy crap," Maria muttered.

"Admit it, Steve. She's good," Natasha said. "Look how precise her control is. She could probably take on a whole Chitauri invasion force by herself."

"I don't know about that," Steve answered, unable to tear his gaze away, "But she's certainly everything we hoped she'd be."

As the exercise reached its conclusion, Steve nodded to his friends that they should head downstairs. They took the elevator from the balcony, and moments later, were striding across the training center floor, towards the paint-splattered facades.

Clint looked up. "Uh, oh," he murmured to Sam. "We're busted."

Steve came to a stop just at the edge of the street, to keep the soles of his boots from being covered in paint. Sam, Wanda and Clint all straightened up in evident embarrassment, every one of them covered head to toe with paint. Wanda's face lit up with joy at seeing Natasha, but her happiness evaporated when she saw her friend's disapproving scowl.

"Would someone like to explain to me what's going on here?" Steve demanded in a harsh tone.

There was a momentary, awkward pause.

"Uhh, training exercise, Captain," Sam said at last.

"Training exercise?"

"Hostage rescue simulation," Clint managed to answer. "We've, uhh, been evaluating Wanda's ability to assess threats, and her capabilities to neutralize them."

"I see. This is a performance evaluation."

"Uhh... yeah."

"And what is your evaluation of Wanda's performance?"

"On this most recent exercise, all hostages were rescued. All threats neutralized."

"She got a perfect score, Cap," Sam added.

Steve looked down the length of the simulated street. There didn't seem to be an inch of the training area that wasn't dripping with wet paint. He turned to Wanda.

"All right, Wanda, you're dismissed," he told her. "Training's over for today. Go get yourself cleaned up, and get something to eat. It's been a long time since breakfast."

"Yes, sir," Wanda started to turn away.

"You might want to take those boots off first," Steve suggested.

Wanda grinned sheepishly. "Yes, sir."

"Wanda?" Steve called after her, as she began to walk over to the van.

Wanda turned back. "Yes?"

Steve smiled approvingly. "Good job. Well done."

Wanda's face broke out in a radiant smile. "Thank you, Captain."

She retreated to the back of the van to remove her gear and wipe herself off as best she could.

Steve started to turn towards the entrance, and Natasha remonstrated in dismay. "Steve!"

"What?"

"That's _it?_ That's all you're going to say?"

Steve turned back to look at Sam and Clint. They undoubtedly had taken the worst of this particular exercise, each was practically coated head to toe in paint. Only the skin around their eyes where the goggles sat had been spared. He shook his head in disappointment.

"Clean this place up," he ordered. "I want this floor clean enough to eat off of by morning."

"Yes, sir."

Steve turned and left. A moment later, Maria followed, unable to suppress a crocodile grin. She obviously found the whole thing quite amusing. Natasha regarded her two paint-splattered colleagues with obvious disgust.

"I'll deal with you two later," she vowed darkly, then turned on her heel and stalked out, following behind Steve and Maria.

"We're dead, aren't we?" Sam asked Clint.

"Unmarked grave dead," Clint sighed. "And Cap just gave us _that_ look, didn't he?"

"Which look?"

"The look that says, 'you losers just let a teenage girl take you to school'."

"Yeah," Sam admitted. "That was the look, all right."

From somewhere above the ruined facade, a huge glob paint fell from the rafters and splattered on the top Sam's head. He didn't even bother trying to wipe it off.


	14. Chapter 14

It was almost an hour later before Wanda finally emerged from the shower, dressed and returned to her own room. Seeing that the door between her suite and Natasha's was ajar, she shyly went up to the door and knocked.

"Come on in, Wanda."

Wanda stepped through the doorway to see Natasha folding clothes on her bed. Several garment bags and luggage cases were scattered around the floor.

"Hey," Natasha greeted her with a warm smile. "Come in. If you can navigate through all the debris. Today's moving day. Obviously. All cleaned up?"

Wanda made a face. "I think so. It takes a really long time to wash all that paint off. It goes _everywhere_ \- even places you really don't want paint to go."

"Oh, I know all about the perils of paintball, believe me," Natasha grinned. She seated herself on the edge of the bed and gestured for Wanda to do the same. Wanda sat beside her, snuggling close; Natasha put an arm around her and gave her a comforting squeeze. "I expressly told Clint and Sam they weren't to paintball you. I'm still working on an appropriate punishment."

"Please don't be mad at them," Wanda begged. "They really were just trying to help me. And I actually had a good time."

"I heard you laughing," Natasha nodded. "That was nice to hear."

"I got so caught up in the game, I even..." Wanda hesitated. "I forgot about... things. For a little while." She gave Natasha a pleading look. "Is that bad?"

"Oh, Wanda." Natasha sighed. She hugged her tightly. "No. It's not bad at all. It's healthy and normal. And in time, that is what's going to help you heal."

"I don't ever want to forget my brother."

"You won't."

"But how do I -"

"Hush." Natasha hugged the young woman again. "The love you feel for Pietro, and the love he felt for you, you'll never lose that. You'll remember that he died, and how badly it hurt. But the pain will fade. It will take a long time, but it will, I promise. And the love will always be there."

Wanda burrowed into Natasha's embrace, seeking comfort. Natasha held her tightly, stroking Wanda's soft hair, gently rubbing her back. Wanda drew in a sharp breath suspiciously close to a sob, and Natasha left a maternal kiss on her forehead. Then they sat together in companionable silence for a time.

When her emotions calmed, Wanda sighed deeply. "I'm so glad I met you."

"I'm very glad I met you," Natasha agreed. She cast a glance around the room. "Somewhere in all this mess is two suitcases full of outfits for you. But, you and I both missed lunch. So I think before we begin the treasure hunt for your clothes, we should go down to the kitchen, and have an early supper. What do you think?"

"Sounds great," Wanda sniffed discreetly.

As they stood up, Wanda winced slightly. Natasha regarded her friend with a knowing smile. "So, how sore are you, after your first full day of training?"

"Ugh! I ache all over," Wanda admitted. "I'm just one big bruise, from head to toe."

"I'll bet," Natasha said sympathetically. "It will feel worse in the morning, trust me. Remind me to introduce you to the joy and wonder of ice packs." She held out her hand. "Come on, partner. Let's go hunt and gather ourselves some nourishment."

Arm in arm, the two women left the room together.

* * *

The following morning, Natasha came down to breakfast at what was for her a disgracefully late hour. She had gone to bed fairly early and slept in, far longer than she had intended. To her surprise and delight, a piping hot breakfast was already prepared for her, courtesy of the new chef, and she was also happy to see Steve Rogers, once again dressed in civilian clothing, also taking a late breakfast. She walked up to the table.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Hey, Natasha. Please. Sit down. I was actually about to come look for you."

"I'm seeing lots of familiar faces around here this morning," she commented, taking a seat. "It's almost like S.H.I.E.L.D. in miniature."

Steve nodded. "We were lucky. A lot of the people who helped make S.H.I.E.L.D. exceptional were willing to come work for us, in spite of all that's happened. This is nothing on the scale of S.H.I.E.L.D., but we have the beginnings of a solid organization now. Maria vetted almost all of the staff personally."

"So, we should be in decent shape to go out and protect the world again," Natasha quipped.

"That's the plan," Steve agreed.

"What did you want to talk to me about? Or should I say, who."

Steve smiled. "You're getting to know me pretty well. Yes. I wanted to talk about Wanda. More specifically, your relationship with her."

"Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem. But I've been watching how the two of you interact. It's obvious Wanda looks up to you. She also sees in you someone she can confide in, and someone she can turn to for comfort."

"Are you suggesting I stop?"

"Actually, I was going to ask you to keep doing what you've been doing. As long as Wanda has someone on the team who keeps her anchored emotionally, she's much more likely to stay with us. It's not fair to place that burden entirely on you, but you're the person she's chosen to bond with. And I know how you feel about babysitting."

"Wanda doesn't need babysitting. She just needs a friend."

"Then I'm asking, for the good of the team, be her friend. What's the term they use these days? BFF. I need you to be Wanda's BFF."

Natasha smiled. "This isn't going to be a problem for me, Steve. Honest."

"Good. It's one thing to ask you to do that for a couple of weeks. It's another matter entirely to ask you to make a long-term commitment. I was hoping, since you vouched for her initially, you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all. So, you're planning to take her out into the field with us?"

Steve shook his head. "Not yet."

"Can I ask why not?"

"It's... complicated."

"Yeah, and I'm calling bullshit," Natasha declared. "Wanda's more than proven herself, Steve. We couldn't have stopped Ultron without her help. It's obvious she knows how to handle herself in the field. I can't think of a single valid reason why you'd want to keep her on the bench."

Steve gave Natasha a questioning look, so she added, "Hey, you appointed me your second in command. That means I'm supposed to speak up, if I think you're making a questionable call."

"You're right." Steve took a long sip from his coffee mug. "There's one other thing I need to see from Wanda, before I know we can take her into the field with us. Just one."

Natasha nearly groaned as the realization came to her. "Stark."

"I'm the first to admit, I find Tony hard to work with sometimes. But I _can_ work with him. And I do. I just need to know that Wanda can, too."

"You're asking her to forgive an awful lot, Steve."

"Tony didn't drop that bomb on Wanda's home personally. I'm not sure Wanda sees it that way. They don't have to like each other, but I need to know that they can work together. Tony's flying out at the end of next week, and he's bringing the Vision with him. While he's here, I'd like to arrange for Wanda and Tony to have an... ahh, unscheduled private meeting."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Accidentally on purpose?"

"Even if he's not going to be suiting up as often, Tony's still part of this team. We wouldn't even be in this facility, if he hadn't stepped in after S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed. Tony's not going anywhere. So if Wanda is going to be an Avenger, she needs to understand and accept that."

Natasha sighed. She could see Steve's point, but it wasn't an easy sell. "What if she says no?"

"Then she can't be on the team. Not until the answer is yes." Steve leaned forward in his chair. "And don't coach her on this, Natasha. We need to know how Wanda truly feels, in her heart, without any prompting from any of us. This can only work if Wanda can accept the situation as it stands now, both the good and the bad."

"So, you want me to say nothing."

"You can tell her that Tony and the Vision are coming here. But leave it at that."

Natasha mulled that over. "She's worth bending the rules for, Steve."

"I know she is. Sam and Clint will be working with her for the rest of this week. Before Clint goes home, we'll have a private sit-down with them to evaluate Wanda's readiness." He managed a tight-lipped smile. "Unless you have any further comments to make about their paintball session yesterday."

"Nope. No comments."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Wanda enjoyed it. And she needs all the positive reinforcement we can give her. I was actually planning to drop a word in Sam's ear on that subject."

"Give Sam some credit," Steve said. "He knows he's not working with a jarhead. He'll take good care of her."

Natasha wasn't as sure, but she decided to let the matter drop, for now. "What about the Vision?" she asked. "Have you come to any decision about him?"

Steve sighed. "I want to believe the Vision is everything he claims to be. But he was an offshoot of the Ultron program, and, well, I just can't shake off my concerns that easily. Erik Selvig will be out here next week, along with a couple of other researchers, and I'm hoping they can work with him, and convince me that my concerns are unfounded."

"Wanda and the Vision could give this team some serious firepower, Steve. And firepower is one thing we're sorely lacking right now."

"I'm fully aware of that. But I can't let their enormous potential blind me to other concerns. I need to know they can be the future of this team, not the end of this team."

"Well, I can't speak for the Vision, but in Wanda's case, I'm sure that bringing her on the team is the right call."

"I hope so," Steve answered thoughtfully. "And I hope that by the end of next week, that's something we can make official."


	15. Chapter 15

For Natasha, the next few days passed in a blur. The new headquarters was suddenly a beehive of activity. New staff were getting acquainted with their positions, and Natasha found herself taking note of all the new faces, or simply getting re-acquainted with the old ones, most of them former S.H.I.E.L.D. colleagues who were now support staff for the Avengers.

At Steve's request, Natasha did not spend any of her newly acquired free time training Wanda. "We need you to be her kiss-it-better person," Steve told Natasha, with a slightly embarrassed smile. "When Wanda skins her knee, I want you to be the person she comes crying to."

That didn't stop Natasha from worrying about her new friend. She would often eavesdrop on Sam's training sessions from the observation deck, even though she trusted Sam completely. While she was too far away to hear the conversations, she could see that Wanda and Sam were frequently having very animated discussions during their training sessions; it was obvious they were trying to work out the best ways to work in tandem. Wanda was giving her full attention to Sam, attentive to his every word. To Natasha's great relief, the two of them smiled and laughed often as they talked. Having seen them establish a good working rapport, Natasha felt considerably less insecurity about leaving Wanda's training in Sam's capable hands. She knew he regarded Wanda as precious cargo, as she did.

Finally, the Saturday arrived when Clint would be leaving and Tony and the Vision would be arriving. Natasha made it a point not to discuss either with Wanda; there was no need to heighten the girl's anxieties. Natasha had to admit, she was having some anxieties of her own. There was about to be a pivotal, and permanent, change in the team; and Natasha felt uncharacteristically keyed up that morning.

She arrived in the conference room to find Steve and Sam already there. "Where's Clint?" she asked.

As if on cue, Clint appeared in the doorway behind her. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized, sliding into the nearest seat. "I was saying goodbye to Wanda. She wasn't going to let me go, until I promised I'd text her every day."

"Do you need a lift to the airport?" Natasha asked, also seating herself.

"No. Thanks, but I'm good," Clint answered. "I'm going to head out as soon as we're done here. Car's waiting for me downstairs."

"You know that Maria would be more than happy to fly you home," Steve pointed out. "It would certainly be a lot faster than commercial air travel."

Clint shook his head. "I appreciate that, Cap. But the quinjet really should be reserved for Avengers missions, not personal travel. Hey, you never know when that next red alert is coming, right?"

"Gee, you'll miss seeing Tony Stark," Sam deadpanned. "Or maybe that was the plan."

Clint chuckled. "Well... it wasn't the plan, but it _is_ a bonus."

"You're still planning to come back in two weeks?" Natasha asked.

"Yes, ma'am. Unless you guys call and tell me that monsters from outer space are invading again."

"Well, we will miss having you here, Barton," Steve said sincerely. "And you know, you're always welcome to come back early."

"Let's see how long it takes before Laura chases me out of the house," Clint grinned, and they all laughed.

"All right, let's get this thing underway," Steve announced. "As you know, we have some key decisions to make about who's going to be on the team going forward. You've all had a chance to work with Wanda this week, and seen her in various simulations and drills. I want to know if you think she's ready to go into the field. Sam, since you've worked with her the most, let's start with you."

"Well, she's certainly been easy to work with," Sam said. "She's a good kid. Smart. Works hard. Asks lots of questions, and actually listens to the answers. Makes sure she understands what we're doing before we do it. She gives me everything she's got, holds nothing back. Lets me know if she's having any problems. I got no red flags for you, Cap."

"Cap, if I may," Clint interjected. "The truth is, you already know Wanda's got what it takes to be in the field with us. We all know it. Her skills and her powers are not in question. It seems to me you really only need to know one thing about her. So let me tell you: she _wants_ this. For the first time in her life, she's making a decision entirely on her own, not with her brother or anyone else. She's lost everyone that ever mattered to her, and if I were in her situation, I'd be scared, like, _really_ scared. And now she's with a group of people she genuinely likes. And we like her. She knows what this chance means for her. She doesn't want to blow it. She's ready to commit to the team, Steve. And to you. When you take her into the field, she's going to follow your orders, to the best of her ability. She's your soldier. She's an Avenger."

Steve glanced over at Natasha.

"Hey, don't look at me," she protested. "You already know where I stand on this issue."

"All right," Steve conceded. "Then I think we're done here."

"She's in?" Natasha almost couldn't breathe from anticipation.

"She's in," Steve confirmed. "Every one of the senior officers of the team is advising me that we need to bring Wanda on board right away. So let's take the training wheels off. Sam, you and Natasha and I will begin working with Wanda in full contact drills, first thing tomorrow."

Natasha exhaled deeply. "What about... you know, what you said about Tony?"

Steve smiled. "I have a confession to make on that score. Stark's already here. He flew in early this morning. And he told me that his mission critical for this trip was to welcome Wanda to the team."

"Wait... Stark is going to be _nice_ to somebody?" Sam obviously couldn't believe his ears.

Clint was equally dumbfounded. "Wouldn't that require him to, I dunno, admit he was wrong, or something?"

Steve chuckled. "I wouldn't go _that_ far," he said. "But I think Tony is sincere about making amends, and what little I know of Wanda tells me she responds well to sincerity. Even if Tony isn't exactly adept at this sort of thing, I'm fully expecting the two of them to make peace with each other today."

"Just another sign that the Apocalypse is indeed upon us," Clint quipped.

"What about the Vision?" Natasha asked.

"Selvig and the research team are with him right now. I have to admit, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, I'm struggling with a... _bias_... against the Vision. I'm hoping Selvig's team can give me enough hard evidence to assure me that bias is unfounded."

"I hate to play devil's advocate here, but what if the conclusion goes the other way?" Clint asked. "What if Selvig finds out that stupid stone really does control the Vision's actions? And turns him into another Ultron?"

Steve sighed. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he decided. "I'd like to think, if that were really the case, it would have happened already."

"Steve... you're never going to get what you want here," Natasha said quietly.

"How do you mean?"

"None of us ever truly knows what's churning inside another person's head. And it doesn't matter whether that head is filled with blood and tissue, or printed circuits. You're never going to get the guarantee you're looking for. Sooner or later, all of us are going to have to decide whether or not to take the Vision on faith - or at least, on face value. Thor gave the Vision his vote of confidence. I think we should, too."

"You're probably right," Steve admitted, after a long and thoughtful pause. "Maybe it's just me. Maybe I just need time to cast my own prejudices aside."

"Knowing you have them is the first step to getting rid of them," Natasha nodded.

"Hmm. Well, unless anyone has anything else they'd like to add, let's leave the discussion there for now," Steve decided. "We certainly can make plans for at least one new team member right away. And we want to do everything we can, to get her off to a good start."

As everyone got up to leave, Steve extended his hand to Clint. "Safe travels, Barton. And thank you."

"Thank _you,_ Cap. And I'll see all of you in a couple of weeks."

Natasha sidled up to Clint. "Mind if I walk out with you?"

"Not at all."

They headed for the main stairwell that led to the lobby.

"You're gonna look after Wanda while I'm away, right?"

Natasha flashed him a wicked grin. "You could do that yourself, you know. If you hadn't decided to run away."

"I'm not running away."

"Sure you are."

"I'm running home to be with my family. There's a big difference."

"We aren't your family, too?"

"Of course you are..."

"Then maybe you should adopt Wanda," Natasha grinned.

"It's crossed my mind," Clint answered, in complete seriousness. "But I think someone's already beaten me to it."

They crossed the wide lobby, and exited out through the front doors.

Natasha frowned. "Someone's going to adopt Wanda? Who?"

Clint just gave Natasha a knowing look in reply.

"Oh, come _on,"_ Natasha scoffed. "Look. We needed Wanda on board. I gave her my 'you're not the only monster on the team' speech, and it worked. She's on board. We win. That's the end of it."

"Is it?" Clint asked pointedly.

"Of _course_ it is. Yes, I like her..."

"It's more than that. I _know_ you, Nat. I've seen the two of you when you're together. You protect Wanda like you've never protected anyone. When she cries, _you_ cry. When she can't sleep, neither can you. She's not just your teammate. That little girl's reached a part of you I thought was closed off forever."

"I..." Natasha faltered in reply. Everything Clint was saying to her was absolutely true. She could deny none of it. "We... we just have a lot in common. That's all."

"Look, Nat... what you do with your own personal life is your business. But I really think you should consider -"

"I know, I know," Natasha sighed sadly. "I'm too close. I'm letting my personal feelings for Wanda impair my judgment. And you're right, you're absolutely right. I need to take a step back, and remain impartial."

"Uhh, that wasn't what I was going to say at all," Clint said with an embarrassed grimace.

Natasha stared at him in surprise. "It wasn't?"

"Actually, I was going to say... I've watched the two of you together this past week. I've never seen you this... anchored," he chose the word carefully. "Or this happy. She's good for you, Nat."

Natasha's mouth dropped open in surprise. "You think I -"

"Everyone needs family. I think you've just found yours. Wanda's in the market for a sibling. So are you. Whether you admit that or not." He gave her a chagrined smile. "Actually, I was going to say, you could be her mom, but that would imply you're getting older, and then you'd probably just smack me."

"Oh, there's no 'probably' about it," Natasha growled.

"But big sister works too. I guess all I'm trying to say is... go ahead. Run with this. Don't be afraid to let it get personal."

Natasha sighed despairingly. "It's such a terrible risk."

"So's getting out of bed," Clint retorted. "Hey, I took a risk with you, and I like to think that turned out all right."

"That's true..."

One of the garage attendants brought the car up to the drive, where Clint and Natasha were waiting.

"Okay, here's my ride," Clint sighed. "Gotta go."

"You know I'm really going to miss you, right?"

"I'll miss you, too. But I'll be back soon."

"I'll be counting the days," Natasha promised, and then bestowed a crushing bear hug on her friend. She watched as Clint climbed into the car, and with a cheery wave, he drove away. She stood on the sidewalk for several moments, watching the car recede in the distance, pondering the implications of their conversation. Finally she turned, and strode purposefully back into the building. It was time to go find her family.


	16. Chapter 16

Wanda found herself feeling distinctly uneasy. When she met Sam for the morning run, he informed her that there would be no training that morning. "Cap's calling a meeting, senior staff only," was the only explanation he would give. "I'll catch up with you around lunchtime."

'Senior staff' was a euphemism that Wanda immediately understood to mean, everyone except her. Which likely meant the team was discussing Wanda's future. She wandered the halls aimlessly, an anxious skip in her heart and a catch in her throat. She took care to avoid going anywhere near the conference room. In her heart, she knew she was good enough to be a member of the team. But the real question still remained: did the team _want_ her?

Unable to assuage her anxiety, Wanda wandered into the kitchen. It was long past breakfast, and for the moment, the large dining area was deserted. She stared out the windows at the meadow and the line of trees beyond. What if they said no? What if they didn't want her? What could she do? Where could she possibly go?

"It's a nice view, isn't it," said a voice behind her.

Wanda whirled around, startled, and was even more astonished to see Tony Stark standing just a few steps behind her. She froze for a moment, and her next instinct was simply to take flight. She began to turn away, ready to bolt, but Tony held up his hands in a gesture of pacification.

"Whoa, whoa, don't run off," he pleaded. "I was hoping I would run into you this morning. I think it's time you and I had a little talk."

As Wanda regarded him warily, he quickly added. "I promise, I don't bite. I just want to talk. That's all." He gestured to one of the nearby tables. "Will you sit?" he asked hopefully.

Entirely unsure if sitting with Tony Stark was a good idea, Wanda reluctantly seated herself at the table. Tony took the seat across from her.

"I know what you're thinking," Tony said, after an awkward pause. "Yes. The teachers and the principal are having a meeting behind our backs. They're trying to decide whether or not to kick us both out of school." He smiled nervously. "But I like to think that our fate rests in our own hands."

Wanda said nothing, staring at Tony with evident distrust, if not outright hostility. Tony regarded her thoughtfully, and sighed.

"You don't like me," he observed. "That's okay. Most people don't. I'm not out to win any popularity contests. But I like _you,"_ he said quietly. "I know you probably don't believe that, but it's true. You seem like a nice kid. And you have an amazing power. I'm actually quite jealous."

Wanda continued to stare at him coldly, the ice unbroken.

"Please don't glare at me like that," Tony pleaded. "I've seen you shred killer robots into scrap metal with that stare. I'm on your side, I promise. And believe it or not, I've actually come to apologize. Sort of." He shifted uneasily in his chair. "And boy, is my inner sociopath giving me a thrashing right now," he muttered.

He straightened up, trying his best to deal with his disagreeable task. "Look. I understand you have some kind of beef with me, because of what happened to your family. I get that. I'm not here to debate whether I'm personally responsible for every missile that was ever fired at a target. I just wanted to say, I don't hate you, Wanda. And as for what happened to your family, whether it was my fault or not, I truly am very sorry. I can't change what's happened. I don't have a time machine to go back and fix everything and make it right. I think one of those stupid Infinity stones actually has control over time, but it's not in my pocket at the moment, and I'm really rambling now, aren't I?"

Tony looked at Wanda pleadingly. "Come on. I usually like my monologues but this one's getting ugly. Can you give me something? Anything? Any reaction at all. Please?"

Wanda's glare turned from anger and distrust to one of deep, abiding sorrow.

"This is my fault," she said in a barely audible voice.

Tony frowned in puzzlement. "Your fault? What's your fault?"

"If I hadn't... attacked you," she said haltingly, "If I hadn't made you see things, you would never have created Ultron. And Pietro would still be alive. My brother is dead. Because of me."

Tony looked at her in genuine dismay. "No. No no no no no NO," he protested. "This is not your fault. Wanda? Look at me. Look at me, please. This is NOT your fault, you understand? Not your fault. At least... not _entirely_ your fault." He sighed. "Look. I can't come up with alternate versions of reality. I don't spend my time worrying about the might-have-beens. I'm just crazy enough that I might have eventually come up with Ultron on my own. Yeah, you gave me a nudge, but I was already headed down that path. So, don't own that, Wanda. That one's on me. Entirely on me. And I'll tell you something else. Maybe the death of your parents leads you to Strucker. Maybe you end up with him anyway, even if your parents don't die. But look, really look, at where you are, right now," he pleaded. "At who you are. At what you can do. You are one of very few people in this world who actually has the power to _save_ the world. Not many people can say that. And you have an opportunity here, in spite of all the terrible, awful things that have happened to you, to do something of lasting value. I'm begging you, don't throw that chance away, just because you're feeling guilty about your part in all this."

"Are you saying I shouldn't feel guilty?"

"Not unless it's leading you to a better place, a more constructive place," Tony answered. "You've probably guessed, I'm not big on guilt. I think it's a waste of time and energy. If your guilt is helping you arrive at better-informed decisions going forward, then fine. If not, crumple it up, and throw it in the waste paper basket. Neither you nor the world has any use for it."

Tony leaned back in his chair. "Maybe we've both made mistakes. Maybe a lot of them. I'm willing to say, right here, right now, I've made mistakes. Okay? You'll never hear me say that again, by the way," he added. "But we have a choice here. We can let our mistakes own us, and let the world burn. Or we can learn from what we did and move on. I don't know about you, but I'd like to choose the path where you and I go out there, and at least try to make the world a better place. I want you to consider, really consider, staying with the Avengers. Because at the end of the day, it really is _your_ choice. You can turn your back on the world. Or you can do something amazing. Be amazing, Wanda. Trust me, I've been there, it's an awesome feeling."

Tony's hubris was so ridiculous that Wanda couldn't keep a flicker of a smile from her face.

Tony was delighted by her reaction.

"Finally, a smile. That's a start, right?" He sighed with relief. "Look. You don't have to like me. We don't have to be friends. I'm not really the cuddly type anyways. But I would like to work with you, Wanda. Side by side. Saving the world. It's gotta be better than than a mutual hate-fest, right? So, what do you say? Can we agree that regardless of what mutual ugliness we have in our pasts, we can still work together going forward? Want to give it a try?"

Wanda regarded Tony for several agonizingly long moments, considering his words, mulling over his arguments. No, she still didn't like him. But what he was saying made sense, and she would be foolish to disregard sensible words. Slowly, reluctantly, she gave the barest nod of her head. "Okay."

"Thank you," Tony said, with uncharacteristic- and genuine - humility. "Thank you, Wanda. I know you're probably regretting that decision right now. But I promise you, down the road, you'll see it was one of the best decisions you've ever made. And I want to promise you something else. Just between you and me." His voice lowered into a confidential tone. "I know you're hurting right now, and I know you're questioning, well, pretty much everything, really. But if there's anything I can do to make this situation better for you, to make it easier, come talk to me. I promise, I'll try to make it right. We'll work together. Figure things out. Get the job done. Maybe even have a beer afterwards. This is your team now. Maybe even more your team than mine. If I can make it right for you, I will."

He sighed heavily, and then slowly got up out of his chair. "Okay, that's it. That's all I really came to say. Just wanted to welcome you to the team. And, that we're happy to have you."

He started to head towards the door, then stopped and turned back. "Oh, one other thing," he added. "I just heard from my legal team this morning. We're not out of the woods yet, but it looks like our gamble is finally paying off. Extradition charges against you have been temporarily suspended. That means, you can actually set foot outside the campus, and not worry about being immediately arrested. That's good, right?"

"You... did that for me?" Wanda asked dubiously.

"Yeah. Of course."

"Why would you do that?"

Tony gave her the closest thing to a friendly smile that he could manage. "Why wouldn't I?" he said. "You're an Avenger. And we take care of our own. Welcome to the team, Wanda."

Tony walked out of the room, leaving Wanda still in her chair, speechless with amazement.

* * *

"Let me get this right, Doctor. You're saying it's safe to trust the Vision."

Steve Rogers was standing in an anteroom adjacent to a large examination room, where a team of researchers had a bemused Vision hooked up to massive banks of monitoring equipment for most of the morning. Doctor Erik Selvig looked up from his laptop and gave Steve a wry smile.

"I'm saying your biggest fear about the Vision is unfounded. Yes, the Infinity Stone powers his sentience. But it's not the seat of his consciousness. Most of what makes the Vision who he is - how he thinks, how he acts, how he reacts - that's driven by the Jarvis protocols, not the stone itself."

"If we were to remove the stone -"

"I really wouldn't recommend that. It could be tantamount to murder." Selvig's smile turned sympathetic. "I understand your concerns, Captain. I assure you, I do. There's probably fewer people on this planet, except for possibly Agent Barton, who truly understand what a baleful influence an Infinity Stone can be on the human mind. But there's the rub. The Vision's mind isn't a human consciousness. He's not susceptible to the sorts of temptations that would afflict you or I. If I were a religious man, I would say that the Vision is a creature without sin - an innocent. Maybe even a saint. He may not be human, Captain. But he's no danger to you. And he could be a very powerful ally."

"I see." Steve was mulling over Selvig's words carefully.

"If I might borrow from another religious phrase, 'by their fruits shall ye know them'. Look at what the Vision has done. He has worked beside you in defense of the world. He helped you defeat Ultron. He has no ulterior motives, and he expects nothing in return - save, perhaps, the opportunity to work by your side again."

Steve looked out through the window into the examination room. Maria was chatting with the Vision, in a relaxed, casual fashion.

 _Let it go, Rogers,_ he thought somberly to himself. "Thank you, Doctor. That's what I needed to hear."

As Steve walked into the room, he could overhear parts of the conversation.

"I assure you, Lieutenant Hill, I have no need for personal quarters. I am an android. I do not sleep."

"Call me Maria, please."

"Very well, then, Maria."

"You may not need sleep, but your human colleagues do; and if I might suggest, it's not fair to just prop you up in a corner somewhere. One of the fundamental human drives is the occasional need for privacy. You might find having a room of your own provides any number of advantages you might not have considered right away. And frankly, you seem quite human to me."

"Why, thank you," the Vision answered, apparently moved by the sentiment.

"Captain." Maria turned and acknowledged Steve's presence. "I was about to assign living quarters for the Vision in the residence wing. Unless you direct otherwise."

"That's fine, Maria. By all means."

"Am I to take it, my provisional status is being revoked?" The Vision asked.

"It is," Steve confirmed. "And welcome to the team."

The Vision inclined his head gratefully. "Thank you, Captain."

"I don't suppose you've seen Tony Stark anywhere around?" Steve asked Maria.

"Not recently. I'm sure he's around somewhere. I could page him, if you like."

"That won't be necessary. I'm sure he'll turn up."

"He's stepping down, isn't he?"

Steve sighed. "I think he's taking a page out of Barton's book. He'll be there when we need him. The rest of the time..." he paused. "I think Tony has a life of his own that he wants to get back to. I can't fault him for that."

"I guess I can't, either." Maria nodded somberly. "Don't mention this to Stark... but I think I'm actually going to miss him."

"Yeah," Steve agreed sadly. "So will I."

* * *

"There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

Natasha peeked around the shared doorway, relieved to find Wanda laying on her bed, staring pensively up at the ceiling. Wanda sat up quickly.

"Where have you been?" Natasha asked, coming into the room.

"I was in the dining room earlier," Wanda answered. "Talking to Tony Stark."

Natasha's heart almost leapt up into her throat. "Oh, dear. And how did _that_ go?"

"Better than I expected," Wanda said thoughtfully. "Surprising."

Natasha sat on the bed beside Wanda. "Surprising in what way?"

"I think... he actually apologized to me. Said he was sorry. Yeah. That was the look on my face, too," Wanda grinned at Natasha's astonishment. "He welcomed me to the team, and said if there was anything I needed, he would try to help me with it."

"Wow," was the only thing Natasha could think of to say.

"I know. I'm still kind of in shock myself."

"Well, do you think you could stand some more good news?"

It was Wanda's turn for her heart to backflip. "Please tell me," she begged.

"You're officially an Avenger now. Not an Avenger on probation, not an Avenger in training. A full, active member of the team. Steve wants to start working with you. Beginning first thing tomorrow."

Wanda shrieked with joy. She threw herself into Natasha's arms and hugged her so tightly she could barely breathe.

"I don't know how to thank you," Wanda said, when she finally released her.

"You can thank me by being the best Avenger you know how to be," Natasha answered.

The two women looked at each other for a long moment, and each realized the same thing: they had found each other. Wherever they found themselves in the world, as long as they were together, they would be home.

"I wouldn't be here, if not for you," Wanda said, blinking back tears. "I wish Pietro could see me now."

"I think your brother would be very proud of you," Natasha answered. "Almost as proud as I am."

They hugged again, for several long minutes, each just happy to be with the other. When they separated, Natasha smiled. "Well, we have the rest of the afternoon free, so I think you and I should go out and celebrate."

"I would love that," Wanda declared. "But can it wait for a little while?"

Natasha shrugged. "Sure. Why? There's something you need to do?"

"Actually, there is," Wanda nodded. "I need to go say 'thank you' to the man who saved my life." Seeing Natasha's puzzled frown, Wanda explained, "When we were in Sokovia, the church we were in collapsed on top of me. The Vision flew in and got me out, before I could be crushed."

Natasha's eyes widened. "He never mentioned that."

"He wouldn't. He never seeks to inflate his own importance in front of other people." Wanda smiled shyly. "How about, I meet you in the lobby in, say, one hour?"

"Sounds perfect."

"Good. Don't leave without me." Impulsively, Wanda hugged Natasha again, then got up and scampered from the room. As Natasha watched her go, she felt another piece of her heart thaw, then melt.

"My baby sister," she whispered softly to herself.

* * *

A few minutes later, Wanda entered the examination room to find the Vision finally freed from an interminable array of cables, wires and monitors.

"Hey," she said shyly. "Maria said I might find you in here."

"Miss Maximoff. It's good to see you again." The Vision's smile seemed quite genuine, and startlingly human.

"Call me Wanda, please."

"Very well then, Wanda."

"So, are you free now? You can go wherever you want?"

"It seems I have been released on my own recognizance," the Vision answered, with a self-effacing smile. "But I haven't the faintest idea where I should go."

"No one's bothered to show you around? Everyone just left you here? That was very rude of them."

"I'm sure they have more important things to attend to."

"Would... would you like me to give you a quick tour?" Wanda asked hopefully. "I could show you where everything is, and maybe... we could talk. Get to know each other a little better."

"I should be delighted," the Vision answered.

Wanda shyly offered the Vision her hand. "Well, come on, then," she urged him. "I have some time before I'm meeting my _sestra_. I'm new here too, but at least I know where to find everything."

"Your... sister?" The Vision frowned in puzzlement. "Forgive me," he said haltingly. "But I thought you had no living relatives."

"I thought so, too," Wanda admitted. "But, I was wrong. I'm home now. And so are you. Come on. Let me show you."

Hand in hand, Wanda and the Vision left the room, together.


End file.
